Underneath the overhead lighting in the mansion’s Ready Room, a battered and weary figure leaned back in a plush, black leather upholstered swivel chair. Normally one to ensure he presented a clean cut image to the world, the man’s chestnut hair was rumpled as were the clothes he was wearing from the night before. His chiselled features were marred by a cut to his lower lip, where dried blood had collected. There was also a vibrant bruise on his forehead. An ice-pack, now melting, was wrapped around his swollen, right hand. The other hand was tightly clenched in a fist by his side. Disbelief, rage, and sadness coalesced, draining him with each passing second.

Behind his ruby-quartz battle visor, his eyes darted ahead towards the other end of the conference room as if searching for an explanation what transpired last night. The manner in which events unfolded was quite surreal, defying the reality he was familiar with. There was a part of him that wondered if it all had been part of a dream or some kind of illusion perpetrated by telepathic adversaries. However, his physical injuries coupled with the aching sensation that tore away at his heart bitterly disproved these theories.

"She's gone. Jean is gone."

Scott’s mouth formed a grim line as Logan’s words echoed inside his mind. They reminded him of a devastating loss—one that was just too impossible to accept. His wife, his first love and a person whom he loved more than anything in this world, was now dead. He would never see her beautiful face, hear her laugh, touch her hand, or inhale her lavender-scented hair again. Gone also were plans oriented towards their future, involving starting a family of their own and seeing Jubilee through college. No more excited conversations about their visions for the school. No more confessions that only partners in life could share. No more security in the knowledge that another individual understood you completely and without any judgment. All of those things disappeared as soon as that helicopter exploded.

Because he had failed.

Choking back a sob, Scott found himself obsessing over those last minutes before the aircraft flew towards his house. He had been unable to provide much in terms of defensive support. The optic beam he often regarded with some ambivalence had been neutralized due to the drugs injected into his system. The field team leader could not recall a moment before that evening when he was so desperate to be in possession of his trademark optic blast. He remembered the anger and disgust that overtook him in the wake of his body’s betrayal. For the first time in several years, he felt helpless and out of control—feelings he thought had been left behind once he found the Professor.

Equally disconcerting was the drug-induced fugue that had settled over him, interfering with his ability to plan. Known as a master strategist and tactician, Scott was always the one his team mates and others around the mansion looked to for a decisive course of action. It was one of the reasons why Xavier viewed him as his prized pupil. Although he preferred to carefully study all facets of a given situation when preparing, he was equally adept under pressure, especially when time was an enemy. Yet, that night, Scott found himself uncharacteristically at a loss. He was unable to anticipate the soldiers’ subsequent moves or provide Jubilee with direction when confronted with the copter that loomed over them. Instead, the field team leader was overwhelmed by what was happening and his emotional response to these events, his head swimming.

Had he not been rendered powerless, he would have taken down the helicopter. After destroying the soldiers’ means of escape, he would have stormed the house. With his head clear, he would have quickly devised a plan to rescue his wife. Then he would have dealt with the rest of the trespassers accordingly, preventing them from taking Jean. She would have been saved.

However, that was not to be.

The image of the helicopter, engulfed in flames, continued to haunt him even several hours later since the incident. He could still see the brilliance of the fire against the darkness of the night sky, the body of the aircraft being ripped in half from the force of the explosion, and the portions of the copter raining down over them. Horror and shock overwhelmed him as he watched half of the copter land over their home and swallowing it in the destruction, while the other half plunged into the waters of Breakstone Lake. All of these vivid scenes seemed to undermine Jean’s last words, her soothing tone, and the genuine love relayed through them.

Scott began to ruminate about what proved to be his wife’s parting words. I'm going to be alright, Scott. Don't be afraid. Everything is going to be fine. Jean had seemed so sure as she telepathically communicated with him. It was clear that she believed what she said with every ounce of her being despite the obvious evidence of the soldiers’ advantage. Somehow, she was confident that things would ultimately work out—that he would find a way to rescue her.

Just as striking was his wife’s serene demeanour in those last moments. With a gun pointed at her head, the beautiful redhead remained calm. The apprehension that had seized Scott, Logan, and Jubilee did not impact her at all. In fact, Jean appeared to be immune to it. Upon further reflection, he wondered if she was aware of her fate. If so, then why would she say such things? Didn’t she know that her death would unequivocally mean that everything would not be alright? Wasn’t she cognizant of the effect her loss would have on their family, their friends and team mates, and their students? In the face of such questions, surely Jean would not have embraced her own demise.

Would she?

Granted, the couple had been experiencing their share of difficulties as of late. Most of these problems concerned the onset of Jean’s headaches and the accompanying difficulties. As her husband, Scott was supposed to be her protector; the person who could and would do everything in his power to keep her safe and well. Being in a position which removed him from that familiar role also prompted feelings of impotency as he was relegated to stand by and watch her suffer. Moreover, there were times, Scott felt as if he, too, were affected by the pain and panic that often paralyzed her. Finally, the fatigue that often accompanied these headaches left his wife unavailable, exacerbating his helplessness and ultimately leading to increasing feelings of isolation.

It was around this time that he began to seek Emma’s counsel. Unlike others around the mansion (notably Jean, Kitty and to some extent, Jubilee), Scott chose keep an open mind about the former Hellfire member. It would have been easy to attribute his relaxed stance to the revealing outfits or Emma’s surgical enhancements. Yet, for him, there was something else that drew him to the telepath. Her cool façade and willingness to straddle the moral high ground in the name of loyalty to her students were intriguing. Initially, this assessment took him completely by surprise. As someone who espoused portraying a positive example, Scott was mindful of operating under a specific set of rules. It allowed him to retain some perception of control in a world that seemed chaotic and frightening at times.

In general, Scott’s patience with individuals who flagrantly disregarded the rules was limited. In some ways, Emma very much met this description. She was not one to remain within the boundaries of the Xavier philosophy. Depending on whose opinion was being elicited, her methods of achieving her objectives could be construed as either efficient or completely ruthless. However, Scott found a surprising connection between himself and the latest addition to the teaching staff and field team. She shared his devotion to the students as well as a keen insight with respect to planning. While some around the mansion were wary of talking to Emma given her personality and her past, he found it quite easy to share his thoughts and feelings about Jean’s situation. Behind the indifferent front she displayed to the rest of the world was empathy and understanding. As a telepath, she was able to provide clarity and perspective as to what was happening with Jean—something that was particularly comforting.

Although Scott disagreed with his wife about her blonde rival, he did empathize with her point of view after she explained why she was vexed. While nothing of a physical nature entered into his interactions with Emma, he later understood how confiding in a woman who was not his wife could be upsetting. Once he was able to convey his own frustrations with their relationship as well as his concerns in regards to her health, they reached a shared understanding. The arguments had ceased and the strain between them was gradually disappearing. They were making their way back to one another.

Looking back, Scott was immediately filled with guilt and remorse. He should have placed his own fears on the backburner given the Jean’s difficulties. He should have invested his energies in providing more support sooner. Turning to another woman at that time, despite the interactions being of a platonic nature, was completely wrong. While Jean had granted her forgiveness, Scott held himself accountable for adding to her level of distress. For him, his lapse in judgment represented yet another way he had let his wife down.

Adding to the guilt already weighing heavily upon him was the fact that the mansion was under siege under his watch. In addition to his duties as a field team leader, Scott considered overseeing the security of the school as part of his responsibilities. He had made an implicit oath to the Professor that he would be the one to take care of everyone at the school. Upon seeing a shaken Jubilee in the control room and later, witnessing his wife’s capture, Scott understood the extent to which he failed again.

Scott grimaced. I’m sorry, Jean. I should have been the husband you needed. I let you and everyone else down.

He stopped himself, a single tear sliding down his cheek when he realized there was no longer someone who could hear his internal musings.

His gaze dropped down to his uninjured hand, which was still balled up into a fist. He relaxed it, allowing the blood to freely flow once again. The gold wedding band on his ring finger contrasted against the pink of his skin. Scott studied the piece of jewellery glumly. At that moment, he felt as if the ring were acting as a gleaming reminder of his wife and all that was lost that night.

Scott had been so absorbed in his depression that he did not notice that was Logan was standing in the doorway or hear what the other man’s words. He only became aware of the gruff loner’s presence when he heard him call out his name. Startled, his head jerked up and turned to the direction of his team mate. “What?”

A freshly showered Logan raised a brow. Normally, he would have been taken aback upon seeing Scott in his current state. But given the circumstances, the other man’s condition made sense. The last several hours were a blur not only to Scott but to everyone who had been at the mansion that night. Logan felt as if he were in dream, his movements slow and his thoughts foreign to his own person. Even now, it was difficult for him to remember the sequence of events that followed the helicopter’s crash to earth. There were hazy memories of the spring winds suddenly surging with enough strength to tame the fires brought about by the explosion, allowing himself and Scott to conduct inspections of the wreckage. When they were unable to find anything or anyone salvageable, their efforts focused towards the lake. At some point, Scott directed Jubilee back to the observation tower to call Piotr and the others from the tunnels.

Once the men reached Breakstone Lake, Logan was unsure as to how he convinced Scott to remain on land. Hell, he didn’t even remember diving into the waters, guiding his body away from the flames that flickered along the lake’s surface. The details of the actual search were as murky as the lake itself, including how long he was submerged for the purposes of his investigation. Rather, the only things that struck him was the fact that he found no sign of Jean and the resulting distress that threatened to weigh him down.

The exact words used to convey to Scott the results of his search escaped Logan’s memory. Instead, it was the other man’s crushed expression that seemed to be permanently etched in his mind. The fact that the gruff loner could not even deliver a body to focus feelings of closure around intensified their collective grief and shock. By the time they joined the others at the mansion, the reality of Jean being gone was sinking in for both men. Despite the heaviness that settled upon them in the wake of their loss, Scott and Logan were determined to plot a course of response to the attack. Once Jubilee had settled the children in the emergency living quarters, Scott convened a meeting in the nearby Ready Room with Logan, Jubilee, Piotr, and a conscious but slightly groggy Kitty. During the meeting, they compared accounts of what transpired that evening as well as what was discovered in later searches of the mansion (notably, that all of the soldiers who had been rendered unconscious and left behind were now gone), outlined the next steps (whether or not to involve local law enforcement and calling team members back to the mansion), and sifted through a cursory list of possible culprits. Although the mechanics of the meeting were familiar given their occupations, there was something about this particular gathering that now felt strange.

As he continued studying Scott Summers, Logan was immediately taken aback by their new common ground especially in light of their history. To say that the two men often disagreed was quite an understatement. As complete foils, their differences seemed to bring them to the brink of violence. Much of the conflict and tension included many issues, including leadership style, Jean’s affections (prior to her marriage), and the manner in which Jubilee was being raised. Yet, as he ventured inside the Ready Room, it was difficult to deny the similarities. Both were reeling in the wake of a painful loss—one that shook each man to his very core. They shared a grief over a person who had been many things to many people—a wife, a friend, a maternal figure, a sister, a team mate, a student, and a teacher.

Even though the romantic tension that existed between himself and Jean had long since faded, Logan found himself mourning her death just as intensely as Scott. Before Ororo, Jean Grey was the first to welcome and understand him. She had been the one to forge past the irreverent and rough exterior to empathize with the battered psyche beneath. To her, he was more than the feral rage. Jean helped him to realize he was someone who deserved to be regarded with dignity and respect. She was the one who paved the way towards acceptance and healing, ultimately allowing him to be with someone else again.

Now she was gone.

While he was no telepath or a brilliant reader of others’ emotions, Logan could sense the thick cloud of guilt looming over Scott. The self-directed blame and doubt were palpable. He could almost hear words such as ‘failure’ and ‘regret’ reverberating inside the other man’s head. What made the experience all the more poignant was the fact that Scott was not alone in his anguish or in his perceived culpability.

For Logan, indecision was not a familiar companion. Known as someone who relied on his instincts, he often viewed hesitation with disdain. Faltering even for a second could have dire consequences, particularly to one’s survival and that of those around him. He was all too aware of how this manner of operating could be interpreted as savage at times. However, Logan remained unapologetic. It did not matter to him that some of his team mates were often wary or even frightened of him. There were countless times when “going with his gut” proved to be a valuable asset.

But last night was different. For the first time in quite awhile, Logan was rendered impotent in the face of danger. He did not act first as he was accustomed to doing. Instead, for some unknown reason, he delayed his reaction. Rather than charge towards the men holding Jean captive, Logan remained rooted where he stood only to stare helplessly at his friend. Even though his pause was brief, it cost him dearly.

It would have been easy to implicate a multitude of issues. He could have been experiencing residual effects of the drugs injected into his system. Then there was the ensuing chaos of the attack, where the students were scrambling to flee from the invading soldiers. Jubilee’s tear-filled confession about her relationship with Drake earlier that evening had elicited a myriad of feelings and intentions he had not experienced since she was young. Perhaps, it was seeing how peaceful Jean was even with a gun pointed at her was an image that was forever seared into his memory. Hell, any one of those if not a combination of these potential confounds would have easily distracted the most experienced team member. However, acknowledging the impact of these factors did little change one important and obvious truth.

He had failed Jean Grey.

Rather than confide in Cyclops regarding his musings about his own culpability, Logan decided to repeat his progress update. To him, the misery that engulfed them both was enough. Highlighting their feelings in response to previous evening’s events would only serve to exacerbate the pain both were already experiencing. If there was ever a time when both needed to be focused, it was now.

“Half Pint’s got the computers back online,” Logan said, attempting to maintain a Stoic front despite his internal agony. His voice remained flat and even as he continued speaking. “She’s cross-referencing the files based on the intel we have. She wants to pare down the list of possible suspects we came up from the meeting. Colossus is still checkin’ out the damage upstairs and collectin’ anything those bastards left behind. Might be helpful to Kitty in her search.”

Scott nodded woodenly, pretending to stare at the stainless steel walls that surrounded them. He was cognizant of the need to harness his energy into launching an investigation. The fact that everyone was looking to him for direction in this time of crisis was not lost on him. A role he normally embraced, Scott now viewed the position with some wariness. He was the one who was adrift at the moment, in need of a steady lifeline to guide him. Unfortunately, the only person who fit the bill was no longer available.

Taking a deep breath, Scott realized he had to think beyond himself and to be the leader everyone needed. Rather than dwell on his own heartbreak, he had to compose himself. The time called for him to reassure everyone through a façade of strength and discipline. It was what was expected.

More importantly, it was what Jean would have wanted.

“How are we on contacting our people who aren’t on mission?” His voice sounded rough and foreign to his own ears. The experience of hearing it almost made him cringe.

Logan was so deeply entrenched in maintaining his own front of impassivity that he failed to notice the other man’s tone. “Just got off the horn with Kurt. He and Tabitha are drivin’ back up from Virginia. Paige and the Professor are taking a private car from DC. They should be back later this morning. Northstar and Juggernaut are catchin’ the first flight outta Montreal. Evangeline called Kitty about half an hour ago. She and her assistant are figuring out how to handle local law enforcement and the district attorney’s office. Rahne’s workin’ a case with Jamie and Monet in Detroit. She probably won’t be able to make it back any time soon. I also left some messages for Allison and Jono but haven’t heard back from those two.”

“What about Hank?” Scott asked, rubbing his temples wearily as if trying to press the information Logan had just relayed into his brain. “With Cecilia taking that position at Columbia, I need him here to oversee medical exams and analyse samples from those darts.” Although he, Kitty, and the students who were shot had recovered and regained their powers several hours later, there was still concern about possible lasting effects.

Logan pressed his lips together into a grim line before replying. “He and Worthington should be here soon. They’re makin’ a detour into Long Island first to get Drake.” He scowled as soon as soon as Bobby’s name left his lips. Despite his hazy memory of the past several hours since the attack, the gruff loner had not forgotten about what Jubilee had told him. He made a mental note to take the young man aside for a private chat.

This time, it was Scott’s turn to be oblivious. He simply focused on the facts conveyed rather than the simmering rage emanating from his team mate. “Once we brief everyone, you can join Rogue and the others in Madripoor,” he announced quietly. “I told Kitty to let them know to expect you soon.”

Brows furrowing together with confusion, Logan took a second to determine if he had heard correctly. “Shouldn’t I be here to help out?” he inquired. Desire to seek out and exact vengeance against those involved coursed through his veins.

“We have to think of our other obligations,” Scott pointed out grimly as he shook his head. He knew exactly why his occasional rival was insistent on remaining in Westchester. While he understood the motivations, the bespectacled leader was aware they needed to be separated from the tasks at hand. “You’re the one who’s the most familiar with how things work over there, not to mention your relationship with Tyger. Rogue can’t afford to be without you, Logan.”

The older man narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he continued his protest. “I can provide support from here. It’s not like we don’t have the technology to do that.” If pressed, Logan was prepared to bring up the high-speed communications system Hank and Kitty constructed two weeks ago, which was successfully piloted with Alex’s team.

“And you know that’s not as good as being on the ground with the team,” Scott countered, his irritation rising. Given what he had been through, arguing with Logan was the last thing he wanted to do. He was already physically and mentally taxed beyond belief. What little energy was left needed to be directed elsewhere.

In addition to overseeing the investigation at the mansion and operations abroad, there was the prospect of addressing the attack in the press and subsequently, to the parents and students. Even more daunting were the tasks of a more personal nature. Thoughts of making the calls to Jean’s family, planning her funeral, and processing the news with the team and the students filled Scott with an overwhelming sense of dread. Moreover, all of these things seemed to make Jean’s loss all the more real and permanent.

Logan’s nostrils flared slightly upon detecting the faint scent of saline in the air. His head turned in the direction of the source. A grimace touched his mouth when he saw Scott Summers brush an errant tear away. The sight struck the experienced and wizened warrior as incongruous. Granted, the man had suffered a devastating loss. But to actually witness him display some emotion other than shock and disbelief was astounding given how much Scott revered maintaining control.

As much as he wanted to insist on remaining in Westchester, Logan soon became aware that fighting was counterproductive in the grand scheme of things. What was needed from him was a demonstration of solidarity. If backing down to Scott (something he disliked greatly) was necessary, then so be it.

Finally, he relented. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Scott was taken aback. It was rare for Logan to acquiesce so easily. If anything, his occasional rival relished in arguing and flaunting his veneer of rebelliousness at Scott. Normally, Scott would have devoted some thought on the other man’s motives. However, his current state did not allow such a luxury. Rather than dwell on it, he simply nodded his gratitude.

He was about to inquire about Alex and his team’s estimated arrival when there was a soft rapping at the door. Both men turned their heads to find Jubilee standing expectantly with two steaming mugs. Her coltish legs carried her into the room wearily, handing one to Logan. Then she set the other on the polished aluminium conference table in front of Scott.

“I thought you guys could use some coffee,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t find any cream or sugar. I guess we don’t consider that sort of thing part of the emergency supplies stash.” She chewed her lower lip ruefully. “Sorry.”

Logan’s green eyes roved over the young firecracker as he took a sip of the much needed caffeine. Jubilee had showered and changed into some extra clothes from her locker—a yellow linen shirt, a pair of agate shorts, and strappy, hot-pink suede sandals. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which emphasized the delicate nature of her features. What was the most striking were her eyes. Sparkling sapphire had been replaced by a dull blue and now rimmed with red, making her appear years older. It was an image that made his chest ache even more.

Scott allowed the hot, bitter liquid pass down his throat before speaking. “It’s great,” he told her in the most reassuring tone he could muster. With Jean gone, he knew he was what remained of their little family now. It was up to him to keep things together. The fragile veneer of strength emanating from Jubilee warranted it. “Thank you. Really.”

She tried to force a smile but it was distorted. The lack of sleep coupled with the events of the day before seemed to interfere with her usual ability to conceal her pain. “No worries,” she said, clasping her hands together. “I’m just glad you can keep it down.”

Logan extended a hand, placing it on her shoulder. “How are you doin’, kid?” he asked gravely.

Jubilee peered at her mentor’s lined features, which arranged themselves into a concerned expression. She then stole a glance at Scott, who wore a similar look. While she was touched, the fact that both men were focusing their worries over her consumed her with guilt. As the most senior members, Logan and especially, Scott surely had more important things to deal with. They had lost a friend and team mate, and for Scott, a partner in life. By comparison, her problems and reactions to what happened seemed quite small. Instead of seeking their comfort, Jubilee felt obligated to make her sacrifice—at least for now.

Her overwhelming sense of guilt regarding her role last night also would not allow it.

It was difficult for her to reconcile the fact that Jean was now gone. The graceful redhead had been one of the pillars of support in the wake of her traumatic past. When Jubilee first arrived at the mansion, she was quick to use her barriers to preserve her sense of security. This often meant shutting people out through a rebellious act, which bordered on caustic. Jean was the one who was determined to reach the child behind the wild behaviours. Although one would quickly assume that much of this was achieved through her telepathy, Jean preferred to make use of her graduate training in psychology and empathic nature. While engaging in this manner was slightly arduous, it ultimately laid a solid foundation for a relationship between the two of them.

In addition to Logan, the telepath became a trusted confidant, who never judged and was quite willing to offer whatever guidance she could. She was protective without being overbearing, concerned about Jubilee’s wellbeing while maintaining an open mind, and capable of being an authority figure sans intimidation. When Logan began his lengthy sojourns away from the mansion, the redhead took it upon herself to fill the void. For Jubilee, Jean was the maternal figure she missed when her own mother was murdered. Striving to be a better student and more importantly, a better person, were goals she came to view as important because of Jean. Yes, they were important to Jubilee from an individual level. However, there was a part of her that wished to make the telepath proud, as if to demonstrate gratitude for her unconditional and unwavering encouragement throughout the years.

Meanwhile, Jean had come to see Jubilee as the child she yearned for. Scott had been wary of the idea given his traumatic childhood. While he did not rule out the possibility, he did ask his wife to wait. Following the closure of the Massachusetts Academy, she was the one who opened the Summers’ home to the recently displaced firecracker. Initially, the plan had been to provide a temporary home while Jubilee re-adjusted to life in Westchester. Things changed as the dynamics of the household evolved. Rather than viewing the girl as a boarder whom she scarcely knew little about, Jean discovered her nurturing instincts when they were together. She came to empathize with Logan’s need to protect and care for her. To her surprise, the defences (notably, the sarcastic mouth) Jubilee was known to employ were abandoned in favour of fostering another type of relationship. Adding to her delight was Scott’s response. Unlike his interactions with other students, she observed him doting on Jubilee, talking to her with such kindness that most around the mansion believed he was incapable of.

The instances when it was simply the three of them seemed to be the ones that Jean was the most happy. Jubilee recalled that it did not matter what they were doing at the time, Jean always seemed to be smiling so broadly. Even the mundane, such as eating a meal together in the dining room while talking about their respective activities, earned a radiant expression from the graceful telepath.

But like Jean, these moments were now gone.

Swallowing hard, she finally answered, “I’m just beat. It’s been a long night, you know.” Not completely untrue.

“Why don’t you go lie down?” Scott suggested gently. Like Logan, he hated seeing the young woman in her current state. He hated the fact that there was very little he could to alleviate things for her. “There’s really nothing else to be done until we have some of our people back.”

It won’t do me any good to lie down because I can’t sleep, Jubilee thought, choking back a sob. When I close my eyes, all I can think about is how my world has become completely different. Two people whom I love very much are now gone from me. I don’t think I’ve felt this lost in a very long time. And it’s killing me inside.

After what seemed like eons but merely seconds in reality, she finally responded. She shook her head. “I think we’ve used up all the beds,” Jubilee lied. In fact, there were enough cots that she had even allowed Julian to push two together for himself despite finding the act rather obnoxious. However, she decided to continue with the deception as it was the easiest route for the time being. There was a part of her that feared if she broke down in front of them, she would never be able to compose herself. “Besides, the kids are finally sleeping. I don’t want to bother them. Not after what they’ve been through.”

Logan and Scott exchanged wary looks. The two of them were quite aware that there was a surplus of beds given how most of the students were away for Spring Break. But as they returned their attentions to Jubilee, they realized that pushing her on the issue would prove fruitless and possibly, detrimental. It was clear that she was lost in her own anguish and was struggling to cope as best she could at the moment. Naturally, they wanted desperately to do whatever possible to console her and if possible, take away as much of the pain as they could.

Before either one could speak up, Jubilee drew back from Logan. She simply was not ready to have a heavy discussion with either one of them. Her sanity was already quite frayed as it was. Wrapping her arms around her lithe form, she said, “I—I should go. I promised Kitty I’d help her out with some scans. Do you guys need anything else?”

The two men glanced at one another again, conveying their mutual surprise. While both were aware of her defence mechanism of projecting nonchalance to the world in the wake of loss, it was still surprising nonetheless. Logan, particularly, was shocked. Given Drake’s actions coupled with Jean’s death, there was an expectation of something other than the mask she was presenting. However, both Scott and Logan reminded themselves Jubilee had long relied upon deflecting. Having witnessed her use this defence, it seemed to be her way of processing and making sense of whatever misfortune she came across. In time, she often sought their assurance and counsel. As they watched her wring her hands anxiously, both men hoped history would repeat itself.

It was Scott who finally answered her. Shaking his head, he said, “No, I think we’ll be okay for now.” Then he swallowed hard before continuing. “Just let us know if you need anything.”

To emphasize the other man’s point, Logan peered deeply into Jubilee’s face and nodded silently. I’m here for you, kid. I promise.

Her eyes soaked in the countenances of the two men who had played her surrogate father during her formative years. Jubilee was aware of the sincerity in their sentiments. Had she been that teenage mallrat, she would have allowed herself to cry and seek out relief from them. But that girl was now an adult; one who knew tragedy too well for someone of her age. Unlike her younger self, she was cognizant of circumstances and situations beyond her own experience. Such considerations required her to handle herself and her emotions differently.

Jubilee managed to tear her gaze from them and headed to the door. Before leaving, she turned around and gave them a reassuring nod. “I will.”

Then she rushed out, hoping neither detected the tears now flowing freely.

Scott stared after her, furious with himself for disappointing yet another person he was supposed to protect. He hated being so damn helpless. Shoulders slumping slightly, he said, “I should talk to her…but I’m not sure what to say.”

“She’s been through a lot,” Logan mused quietly, green eyes narrowing. He, too, cursed his inability to provide comfort to her. Then he muttered, “Drake being around will only make things worse.”

Scott frowned at him. “What does that mean?” he demanded, voice coloured with alarm.

The older man raised a brow, remembering that he was probably the only person who knew about what happened between Jubilee and Drake. However, Logan wasn’t distressed over divulging the information to Scott. Her preconditions only involved an oath not to cause any bodily harm to the young man—something he was now wishing he had not accepted. Even now, he was entertaining thoughts of using Drake as a target for his aggression.

The gruff loner was also keenly aware of Scott Summers’ continued unease with the relationship. His wariness over seeing them together simmered beneath his attempts to be neutral. Just because Jubilee was now an adult who was able to make decisions about her relationships, it did nothing to lessen the need to guard her heart from harm. It was another piece of common ground the two men shared.

“He broke up with her,” Logan replied flatly, scowling. Immediately, he was transported to the last night in the kitchen and Jubilee’s tear-filled admission. His stomach turned when he saw her despondent face again.

Scott’s brows shot upwards. “He did what? When?” Although he had his reservations about Jubilee’s involvement with Bobby, there was a part of him that wanted to be wrong. He was hoping that Bobby’s streak had ended with her. Granted, it had taken some convincing on the part of Jean, Hank, Warren, and Jubilee herself. However, it did not change the fact that Scott was willing to reconsider his initial assessment. His jaw clenched upon learning that was not the case.

“Yesterday. She went to see him at his parents’ place and he told her it was over.” Logan’s words tasted bitter as he uttered them.

Confused, the other man frowned. After almost two years of dating, this development seemed bizarre—even considering Bobby’s track record. In addition, it was only weeks ago, that the two seemed very happy together. Hell, there had even been talk about her meeting his parents again for the holidays until the elder Drake’s sudden illness. This was surely a turn in events. “Why? What happened?”

The normally laconic Canadian grunted. He was not normally keen on sharing information like this. Discussing the affairs of the heart was not something he was accustomed to. The fact that the subject was the girl he considered his daughter only served to compound things. But as he peered over Scott Summers, he soon recognized the importance of disclosure. The desperation to know mingled with a need for redemption. It was as if the equally distraught man was hoping for a way to make up for last night’s tragic consequences. Scott had failed Jean. He would be damned to hell if he failed Jubilee.

Again, Logan found himself relating.

Taking a deep breath, the gruff loner relayed the particulars of what happened. He touched upon Drake’s bizarre reception, as noted by Jubilee. This was followed by a brief synopsis of the conversation the couple had, including her confession about Thanksgiving. He tried to swallow down his anger as he talked about Drake’s response. The image of the younger man mistreating his Jubilee made bile rise in his throat.

A thick silence hung in the air after Logan finished speaking. Scott found himself reeling. In all the years he had known Bobby, such behaviour seemed completely out of character. Always one to be the carefree prankster, Scott knew of Bobby’s fierce devotion to those he cared about. In observing the couple together, he was quite aware that this loyalty was amplified. Granted, the young man had been under an inordinate amount of stress in recent days. But given that, why on earth would he push someone he cared about away? Why would he choose to shatter her faith during this most desperate of times?

As he mulled over these questions, Scott noticed that his confusion and disbelief were transforming into something else. Then in an even and quiet voice, he said, “I’m going to kill him.”

“Take a number, bub.”