Gradually getting up with her uninjured arm, Jean turns not in the direction she'd been headed, but in the one she now knows to go. While sharing Cyclops' vision inferred nothing of directional value, his transmission in general, did. Like a psychic compass.
This leads her to a hidden entrance to a facility housed entirely underground. Oddly it's neither locked nor guarded. Jean enters to pitch blackness; not a light on in sight.
Feeling her way telekinetically grants her a kind of neuro-physical "sight", like a blueprint; outlines of walls, where they turn-off to rooms, the shape of objects therein etc. Coming to one, she mentally sees the outline of a body slumped against a wall to which it is bound.
The mental pattern confirms to her this is Scott, but there are discrepancies; the form of his body seems off, thinner, and something's missing from around his eyes.
She finds the unmistakable shape of his visor on the ground nearby.
Bending down in front of him, Jean takes the visor and makes to carefully replace it. She does, but Scott starts.
"Scott -it's okay! It's me."
". . Jean?! You're here. .?" he speaks like he doesn't trust his present state of consciousness or perception.
In answer he finds himself -telekinetically- freed of his bindings.
Bringing his arms forward he's feeling for her in the dark, when Jean takes him in a one-armed embrace: "I thought I'd be too late."
He brings both his arms around her, which elicits a pained moan from Jean: "My arm, from when we fell."
Scott adjusts his hold before kissing her cheek; thank God that's the only result from their fall. ". .have you been here? I tried to escape -to find you."
"No. I woke up at the crash sight." In another half-moment she eases out of the embrace.
Scott starts to shift, suddenly causing his legs to cramp. "Aa-ah-ah."
He turns/falls into a laying down position.
Jean uses her powers to help his legs relax -one hand aimed at his head, the other at each leg in turn. Afterward laying a hand on his chest. "I'll be right back. I need to check something." She steps out of the room.
For a few perplexing moments, Jean concentrates. What she was aiming for she doesn't seem to hit on, and she returns to the room.
Scott is back on his knees, one hand on the wall in prep for standing up, the other gripping his recollected upper clothes. Jean comes over to steady him as he rises, careful to position him on her good side. "Easy." What she perceived via the mental blueprint and felt when she held him is confirmed all the more as she takes part of his weight; it's diminished.
"What were they doing to you?" They start gradually exiting the room; Scott's gait somewhat stiff.
"Some kind of tests. Injecting me with...something. Another mutant was with them who seemed able to play with my body chemistry."
Jean's concerned by this, but it's nothing that can be assessed right now.
"And they removed your visor?"
"The tests were always about my blasts. .I guess how they worked under different body conditions...and in the end power sources..." His tone of voice indicates a higher degree of harshness there. But also there's his wording...
Jean seems to acknowledge the darkness on a new level: "They depleted your blasts?"
Scott nods with uncertainty. .
Meanwhile, we go back to someone to whom "uncertainty" is a foreign concept....
Magneto, helmeted this time, is staging another show of superiority. This one impromptu in response to police radio reports overheard regarding mutants they have the mind to apprehend.
The crimson clad mutant, of course, has other plans, as the officers find their cars operating not of their own command. From atop a building that gives him a fine view of multiple streets below, the commanding mutant smirks: "They've been wanting driverless cars."
Suddenly storm clouds form overhead, and as if from them, Storm appears.
Magneto had shifted his eyes towards the telling weather change, and clutches all the cars' breaks to grant him the pause to address the X-Man coming down to him. He takes in the lack of other X-Men present. "You appear short-staffed tonight."
Storm faces him squarely, with a flash in her eyes: "Cease these actions. What you see isn't all there is, Magneto. The other X-Men are here."
"Do you know who they're in pursuit of?" Magneto slightly dips his head towards the ground.
"We will see if the mutants the police are after are in fact deserving of apprehension, and take the correct course of action."
Unperturbed, Magneto quips, "well I will know where to find them if they're to be rehabilitated, either way," displaying an air of superiority over both human and mutant; where ever the potential apprehended may go, police station or halfway house, he can easily break them out.
At this, he let's go of the cars --which causes those with determined, lead-foot drivers, to careen forward as any hold of the breaks has been suddenly released; at least one minor collision can be heard.
Storm: "Your exploits, however they may be, must be set aside for the time being. I come with a message from Xavier."
Magneto's brows rise with curoisity.
Back at the facility with Jean and Cyclops....
Taking the route of a nearer, exit-only door, they come out at a point different to where Jean came in. This one at the edge of a lake in a caldera, the night's full moon reflecting off the surface.
Scott: "Wait."
Jean pauses with and looks at him: "What is it?"
We see from Scott's POV: the full moon, shining brightly in front of his eyes --until a flash of stronger brightness obscures the scene before settling.
From Jean's point of view Scott's visor lights up momentarily, like a bulb receiving a sudden burst of charge before settling to its standard wattage.
His head shifts back just slightly, like his weakened state is messing with his body's natural counter balance to the force of a sudden blast; in this case even a blocked one.
Jean turns her eyes from him to the lake, getting an idea.
We next see the duo in the water; Scott in a laid back, vertical float position, with Jean -sans at least her leather combat jacket as far as we can see- standing in at waste height behind him.
It's a cool night, and as Scott's condition affects his temperature regulation besides, Jean uses her telekinesis to excite the water molecules around them just enough for a safe, rejuvenating float.
She lowers herself deeper to submerge her injured arm, exciting the water molecules around it just a little more.
Later, after drying by a small fire, they take a few more moments of respite...there isn't much organic material to mitigate the hard earth, so we find Jean sitting up while Scott lays adjacent with his head on her lap.
"I can tell something's bothering you."
"I detected no more lingering psychic signatures than the amount of people we can account for. You were the only one they had captive."
". .maybe that's all the facility was made for."
"The town we crashed in had multiple mutants who went missing. Once I had the information of how you were taken away, I thought I'd find them with you." The truth is unsettling, possibly deeply: either the other missing mutants were never taken here, or they had been, but were now long gone. . . .
A following silences is broken as they hear sounds and voices in the distance. Both try to hear what's being said, and soon Jean is compelled to dial in telepathically.
The voices belong to people who curiously have thoughts pertaining to headlines akin to WANTED posters, warning of a facility just outside of town -the one Scott and Jean had just been in- used by mutants to do experiments on "normal" humans; it cites that as the answer to the missing, non-mutant youth Jean had seen posters of, and more pressingly: it details two individuals matching Jean and Scott's descriptions as the mutants behind it all!
"We have to get out of here!"
Scott starts to rise while Jean uses her powers to more efficiently smother* the fire in mounds of dirt. They revest themselves of their combat jackets as they head in the opposite direction of the growing voices.
*JIC you continuity-counters and powers-particular types out there are wondering why Jean doesn't just use her "make us appear invisible" trick again. In short, this instance is less predictable than the previous and it would take more concentration and energy --and Jean's been using her powers all night -to say the least! ~t-crosser Tra.
Just in case their voices are overheard, Jean communicates with Scott telepathically:
'I'm positive what's causing the psychic block here will be on a satellite dish I saw. We'll head there, and hopefully I can contact Charles for an extraction -I was able to on the flight here. He may already be on the way.'
'How far is it?'
'Farther than I'd like with the condition you're in.'
'I'll manage.'
But for right now, it's another mutant we must see managing something as Angel will not be denied a meeting with Trask that following morning.
Trask: "I don't know why you insisted on this meeting, Mr. Worthington. We're both very busy men and I addressed all of your concerns in the affidavit I sent to your Department."
Angel: "Those power inhibiting collars should not have been approved for use without my knowledge."
"Then that is an issue with your department's chain of communication. However, I don't see why you disapprove. As I explained to the member of the department with whom I'd spoken, the collars were manufactured with mutants' best interests in mind. By what other means could you see the police responding to the call of criminal acts committed by individuals with unpredictable super powers?"
"It's unlikely you've tested these collars for the length of time incarceration would require, Mr. Trask. Somehow they're inhibiting the expression of a gene. That has to have consequences for long term use. My colleague, Dr. Hank McCoy, reports you still haven't granted us access to the papers detailing how these collars work."
"I can not simply release that information freely, Mr. Worthington. You must understand. Certainly your reasons for wanting it are valid, but consider if, from your hands, the information slips into someone else's? Eventually the wrong hands. This technology could be used much more insidiously than keeping mutant criminals in check. If you want to talk long term use, consider collaring young children at age of first expression of their X-gene? Not in this country, maybe, but one can never be sure what others have in mind."
Angel points a finger at him: "I swear, Mr. Trask, if it becomes evident you're undermining the correct order of things for your own purposes."
Trask points back. "I would be careful about making such statements if I were you, Mr. Worthington. You're not presently wading in agreeable waters yourself, or should I say, flying in clear skies? What with the suspicion-inducing reports coming out about those X-Men with whom you work."
Before Angel can articulate another thought, Trask assures -in a finalizing tone of voice: "I will arrange a time that Dr. McCoy can come down and view the material regarding the collars. It must be done here with nothing being taken off the premises and observation by a guard at all times."
"That sounds as if you don't trust us, Mr. Trask."
"What I trust is how easily things can slip through places they shouldn't. After all, what is it that's brought us here, today?"
Angel must concede that point.
Trask: "Good day--"
"When can we expect this arrangement to take place?"
For a moment, Trask just stares. "As soon as it can be."
There's that finalizing tone, again.
Angel knows exactly how this will go. . . .
Back with Cyclops and Jean Grey, the morning sun has just found its height in the sky as they come up on a long, 3/4s covered wooden bridge over a canyon, the depth of it transitionally obscured by fog and mist from the waterfall-fed body of water.
Arriving at one mouth of the bridge, both X-Men take in the look of the wood, namely the slats they'll have to be walking on. While none are missing, the bridge is in dire need of servicing; the stability of the wood dubious.
To be on the safe side, we now see Jean raising her hands a little outward, towards the other end of the bridge, as she once more makes use of her telekinesis in a feeling manner. Some length along, she pauses, brow furrowing.
"What is it?"
"I can feel like something's hidden near the centre point of the bridge." (Anyway) "We should be fine to cross."
They arrive at the centre point and Jean bends down to investigate, soon discovering a knothole one can use to lift up a board, and of all things a voice recorder has been secured in a waterproofed container to the underside of the bridge.
Scott has gotten down as well, head bent, concentrating on his breathing more than looking at anything.
Jean sets her attention on him. "How are you doing?"
"Managing. So what's on that thing?"
Jean removes the recorder from its protective casing and hits play.
What follows is an altered sounding voice speaking words the way it might sound if you ran a recording backwards, except without the warped quality:
"sinthat isof terce logchan Expall eriate mentser onlit sumob mern't sprovedoes astest
tanal talfin izingthe asIf evwork. er. ure Asfut robfor ustlive aa testmain subre ject'll ashe annough ade ulthim astain whensus wewill firstgrey met. jean Ashis I'vedoubt yetno toI've findted. ates waybe tocan collsgun merapse thesum abthe sortil bingun sidewolves al- of hiser mutlit ahaps tion, per he-and 'lltive haveura tofig bethe leftto."
Brows creased at the nonsense of it, Scott and Jean look up at each other following the passage "wewill firstgrey met. jean".
By the time it's gotten to the end, however, Scott has his hand on his head.
"Scott?"
But something else diverts attention just then, the sound of a helicopter.
It's come around the uncovered side of the bridge. They're in complete view of it.
Jean taps into the minds inside --then gasps!
"Hold on!"
By now Scott has his hands down on the bridge floor, trying to keep a handle on his consciousness. But that's not what Jean's referring to.
Aiming her hands at the boards beneath them, she means to telekinetically break the "rails" the boards are laid on in such a way as to send herself and Scott down into the safe obscurity of the canyon below. -Except she didn't take into account an affectation to her "psychic transference" through her injured arm
---the boards break on one side ahead of the other
--breaking on a tilt
-sending Scott rolling off the bridge as Jean's awkward fall knocks her against the covered wall of the bridge before she falls beneath it.
They're both in freefall, now.
Amidst the waxing, waning mist and fog, she's lost sight of Scott!
This was supposed to be a psychically controlled descent --it's too far down to the water's surface to safely break it!