uh so idk if its cw or tw but this is my warning to you all rn that this chapter has FREAK Cecily (bitches w a blood kink) in it and that she don't play so keep reading or don't up to you

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Cecily sat in front of her snakes, noticing one that had stopped moving. Her brow furrowed in concern as she heard footsteps approach.

"This one's stopped moving," she remarked, glancing over her shoulder.

Logan looked at her, confusion evident in his eyes. "I thought we were both supposed to be babysitting," he said, his gaze steady on her.

"You had it under control," she replied, her focus still on the snake, her voice tinged with an unexpected seriousness.

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Cecily was jolted awake by a loud, piercing scream. Instantly alert, she glanced around the room, her heart sinking as she noticed the empty space beside her. "Logan?" she called out, but there was no answer.

A wave of anxiety washed over her, and she quickly got up, driven by the certainty that something was terribly wrong. "Rogue," she thought, urgency flooding her. She needed to find her.

Cecily sprinted down the halls, her eyes darting frantically. Just as she rounded a corner, she nearly collided with Rogue, both of them coming to a halt. Grabbing Rogue's shoulders, Cecily held her gaze, breathless. "I was so worried about you. Are you okay?"

Rogue nodded, slightly out of breath. "Yeah, I'm okay." But there was something in her eyes—an edge of fear that didn't escape Cecily's notice.

"Good," Cecily replied, relief washing over her. "Come on, let's go this way."

They ran into Bobby and John further down the corridor. "Rogue!" Bobby called out, his voice tinged with concern.

"Bobby! This way," Rogue directed, pointing behind her. Cecily let the younger ones take the lead, keeping them all within her sight.

As the four of them rounded a corner, a chilling scene unfolded before them: soldiers were smashing a window. Rogue screamed, and without hesitation, Cecily grabbed the kids, urgently pushing them in the opposite direction.

"Go! Now!" she urged, her voice steady despite the panic rising in her chest.

They raced down the stairs, adrenaline pumping through their veins. Just as they reached the doors, they burst open with a violent crash, revealing armed soldiers on the other side. Cecily quickly stepped in front of the kids, shielding them behind her.

"Stay behind me!" she instructed, her heart pounding.

Before she could formulate a plan, a shout echoed through the air. Logan leaped down from the balcony, taking out the soldiers in swift, deadly moves. He landed with a fierce intensity, the sound of his claws unsheathing cutting through the chaos.

"A bit dramatic," Cecily muttered to herself, a wry smile flickering on her lips, "but okay."

"Let's go," was all Logan said as he pushed the door open. Cecily didn't complain—she was just relieved she didn't have to take the lead anymore.

Outside, a helicopter's rotors cut through the air, its lights piercing the darkness.

"Well, that's just great," Cecily muttered under her breath. She quickly gestured down the hall. "Come on, this way."

"This is it," John announced as he opened a hidden passage in the wall. Cecily blinked, surprised that she'd never noticed it before.

Without hesitation, she let the kids go in first, then stepped inside, glancing back at Logan. Her heart sank when she saw him staying behind, closing the passage.

"Logan!" she yelled, panic tightening her chest.

He didn't respond, the door sealing him on the other side. Cecily clenched her fists and hurried down the narrow passage with the kids, her mind racing.

After a few moments, she came to an abrupt stop. "You guys keep going. I'm going back for him."

John frowned, his tone sharp. "He can handle himself. We need to keep moving."

"No!" Rogue protested, eyes wide with fear. "He's outnumbered. They're going to kill him!"

Before anyone else could argue, Cecily shot them a look. "I didn't say I was asking," she said firmly. She turned on her heel and sprinted back toward the hidden door, determined not to leave Logan behind.

When they reached Logan, Bobby wasted no time creating a wall of ice to block off the advancing soldiers.

"No, no!" Logan shouted, frustrated by the barrier.

"Logan, we need to go. Now," Cecily urged, her voice edged with desperation.

"Go! I'll be fine," he insisted, clearly determined to stay behind.

"But I won't," Cecily shot back, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made Logan pause.

He met her gaze, seeing the urgency in her eyes. He looked at the others, who were anxiously watching the scene unfold, then glanced back at the ice wall. After a tense silence, he finally walked over to them.

"Go. Keep moving," he said, his voice calmer now.

Relief washed over Cecily as Logan joined them. They ran to the garage, dashing toward the first car big enough to fit them all.

"All right, get in! Get in!" Logan barked, ushering the kids into the vehicle.

"I'm driving," John insisted, moving toward the driver's seat.

"Maybe next time," Logan replied, brushing him off without hesitation.

"This is Cyclops's car," Bobby pointed out, almost as a warning.

"Oh yeah?" Logan shot back, his tone laced with sarcasm, before using his claws to slice through the ignition, hotwiring the car with ease.

Always with the dramatics, Cecily thought, rolling her eyes as the car roared to life.

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Cecily gazed out the window, absentmindedly biting her nails and muttering words too low for anyone to hear. The car was filled with uneasy silence until one of the boys finally spoke up.

"What the hell was that back there?" he asked, his voice breaking the tension.

"Stryker," Logan answered, his voice heavy with tension. "His name is Stryker."

"Who is he?" Rogue asked, worry evident in her tone.

Logan hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching as he searched for an answer. Finally, he whispered, "I can't remember."

Rogue, sitting in the back, unwrapped a necklace she had been wearing as a bracelet. Leaning forward, she held it out to Logan. "Here. This is yours," she said softly.

"I can't stand uncomfortable silences," John muttered, reaching for the radio.

Suddenly, NSYNC's "Bye, Bye, Bye" blared through the car, snapping Cecily out of her thoughts.

"Where are we going?" John asked.

"Storm and Jean are in Boston. That's where we're headed," Logan replied.

"My parents live in Boston," Bobby added, addressing the group.

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The group entered the house, and Bobby called out, "Mom? Dad? Ronny? Is anyone home?" When no response came, he exchanged a glance with Rogue. "I'll find some clothes for you," he offered before heading upstairs.

Cecily wandered through the house, taking in her surroundings before making her way back into the kitchen. She arrived just in time to see Logan unsheath his claws at a cat that had wandered in.

"Wow, you really showed him," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Funny," Logan replied, clearly unimpressed.

Cecily rolled her eyes and crouched down beside the cat. "Well, aren't you just a precious thing," she cooed, reaching out to give the cat a gentle pat, her tone softening.

Just then, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see someone entering the doorway. "Hey, Ronny. Next time you—" the male voice trailed off as he took in the sight of Cecily and Logan.

"Well, that's just bad timing," Cecily muttered under her breath.

"Who the hell are you?" the man demanded before anyone could respond. Just then, Bobby came rushing down the stairs.

"Honey, aren't you supposed to be at school?" his mother asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Bobby, who are these people?" his father inquired, eyeing the newcomers.

"Uh, these are my professors, Logan and Cecily," Bobby explained. Cecily almost laughed—while she did stay at the school, she was far from being a teacher.

"There's something I need to tell you," Bobby said, looking at his family with a serious expression.

Cecily stood alone on the porch, indifferent to the family meeting unfolding inside. She was absently picking at the skin on her fingers, muttering incoherently, "No memory. He will have no memory."

Her thoughts were interrupted when Logan emerged, holding the comm device. "No one's left, Jean. Soldiers came," he relayed into the device.

Cecily tried to piece together the conversation but only caught fragments, her focus slipping back to her nails.

Once Logan finished the call, he approached Cecily. He noticed her muttering, catching only a part of what she was saying: "He's yet to see victory."

"Hey," Logan said softly, stepping closer to Cecily.

Cecily turned to him, her gaze distant. "Hi."

"Jean and Storm are on their way," Logan continued, watching her closely.

"I know," she replied curtly, her voice tight. They stood in silence for a moment, an unspoken tension hanging between them. "We should... go back inside," Cecily added abruptly before turning and heading toward the house.

Logan followed, but something in his gut told him something was off. His instincts flared as a sudden unease crept over him. "We need to go. Now," he said, urgency lacing his voice.

"Why?" Rogue asked, concern growing in her eyes.

"Now!" Logan snapped, his tone sharp, filled with a sense of impending danger.

"Logan, what's wrong?" Rogue pressed, her voice tinged with fear, but Logan was already moving, his body tense, ready for a fight as he sensed something coming for them.

As they stepped outside, they were met by flashing lights and the sight of police surrounding the house. "Drop the knives and put your hands in the air!" an officer commanded, his voice firm.

Logan frowned, his confusion evident. "What's going on here?"

Bobby's face paled as realization hit him. "Ronny," he whispered, dread creeping into his voice.

"I said drop the knives!" the officer repeated, more forcefully this time, raising his weapon.

"This is just a misunderstanding," Logan tried to reason, his hands raised, but his claws still out. "Put the knives down!" the officer barked again, tension thick in the air.

"I can't. Look," Logan said, slowly retracting his claws to show they were a part of him. But before he could explain further, the officer fired without hesitation, the bullet hitting Logan square in the head.

Cecily winced, quickly turning away from the scene, her hands flying up to cover her ears. She mumbled something incoherent under her breath, a nervous habit when her anxiety spiked. Though she knew Logan would be fine, watching him take a bullet was still unsettling.

"All right, the rest of you, on the ground now!" the officer barked, his voice sharp with authority. Bobby quickly dropped to the ground, but John and Cecily remained standing, unmoved.

Cecily's focus drifted, the world around her fading into a blur of noise and light. Her thoughts spiraled inward, drowning out the chaos. She muttered quietly to herself, "Shadows closing in... the light fades, but the storm is near."

"Listen, you two. I said on the ground!" the officer demanded, growing more impatient.

John, unfazed, flicked open his lighter with a chilling calm. "You know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news? I'm the worst one."

Before John could act, Cecily grabbed his wrist, her voice cutting through his anger. "No, this isn't the way to handle this," she warned, her tone edged with urgency.

John shook her hand off, his jaw set with defiance. Ignoring her plea, he unleashed a torrent of fire toward the officers. Flames erupted, sending the police scrambling back in shock.

At that moment, Cecily's gaze snapped to the sky as the jet descended. Relief washed over her, knowing help had arrived. "We need to go," she urged, pulling John and the others toward the aircraft.

As they sprinted to the jet, the officers hesitated, unsure whether to shoot. They boarded quickly, breathing heavily from the escape. Inside, they were greeted by an unfamiliar face—a blue-skinned man sitting casually in one of the seats.

"Guten tag," he greeted with a calm smile.

Logan, still shaken from the earlier encounter, eyed him warily. "Who the hell is this?"

The man, unbothered by Logan's bluntness, introduced himself, "Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich circus, I was known as 'the Incredible Nightcrawler—'"

"Aw, save it," Logan interrupted, not in the mood for formalities. "Storm?"

Storm glanced back from the cockpit. "We're out of here," she confirmed, powering up the jet as it prepared to take off, leaving the chaos behind.

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"How far are we?" Logan asked, glancing at Jean, his brow furrowed with concern.

"We're actually approaching the mansion now," she replied, her voice steady.

Storm's expression shifted to one of confusion. "I'm picking up two signals. They're coming in fast."

A commanding female voice crackled over the radio, cutting through the tension. "Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend to 20,000 feet. Return with our escort to Hanscom Air Force Base. You have 10 seconds to comply."

The group exchanged worried glances. "Wow. Somebody's angry," Storm muttered, her fingers dancing over the controls.

"I wonder why," Logan said, shooting a pointed look at John.

The voice came through again, sharper this time. "We are coming up alongside you to escort you to Hanscom Air Force Base. Lower your altitude now. This is your last warning."

"They're falling back," Storm noted, but the console suddenly erupted with a series of beeps. "They're marking us."

"What?" Logan's voice tightened with tension.

"They're gonna fire! Hang on!" Storm shouted, flipping the jet upside down in a desperate maneuver.

"Please, don't do that again," John groaned, gripping his seat.

"I agree," Logan added, his expression one of irritation.

"Don't we have any weapons in this heap?" Logan asked, scanning the cabin.

"We are the weapons," Cecily responded flatly, her determination unwavering.

Storm summoned powerful gusts of wind, weaving the jet through the chaos as they dodged incoming missiles. Cecily gripped her seat tightly, her knuckles white as the jet shook violently. After what felt like an eternity, the storm began to clear, and the jet stabilized.

"Everyone okay back there?" Jean called out, her voice strained.

"No," Logan replied, still tense and ready for more trouble.

Suddenly, the console beeped frantically. "Oh, my God. There's two of 'em," Storm warned, her tone urgent. Jean focused her powers, destroying one of the missiles just in time.

"There's one more. Jean—" Storm started, but before Jean could react, the remaining missile detonated just above them, ripping a massive hole in the top of the jet.

"Rogue!" they all screamed as the force of the explosion sucked Rogue out of the jet, her grasp slipping helplessly.

"No!" Cecily shouted, panic surging through her.

The blue man, whose name Cecily struggled to remember, vanished from his seat. In an instant, he reappeared, cradling Rogue in his arms as he materialized back inside the jet.

The jet began losing altitude, spiraling out of control. Cecily and Jean struggled to stabilize it, their powers waning under the pressure.

As they fought for control, Cecily noticed the hole in the jet beginning to close itself. "Jean?" Storm asked, casting a glance her way.

"It's not me," Jean replied, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Storm turned to Cecily, who shook her head. "Not me either."

Just then, the jet abruptly halted mid-air. They peered out the window to find Magneto, his powers holding the jet in place, a fierce look of determination on his face.

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The adults stood around the fire, the night completely enveloping them in darkness. Magneto broke the silence. "His name is Colonel William Stryker. He invaded your mansion for one purpose: to get Cerebro—or enough of it to build his own."

"That doesn't make any sense," Jean said, puzzled. "Stryker would need the Professor to operate it."

Magneto nodded. "Which is likely the only reason my old friend is still alive."

Cecily stood off to the side, picking at her fingers, whispering something incoherent. Logan noticed but couldn't make out the words.

Logan looked at the group. "What are you all so afraid of?"

Magneto explained, "While Cerebro is functioning, Charles' mind is connected to every living person on the planet. If he were forced to focus intensely on a specific group—let's say mutants—"

"He could kill us all before we even realized what was happening," Cecily interrupted, her voice cutting through the conversation. The others turned to her, surprised that she was listening so intently.

"Wait a minute," Storm said. "How would Stryker even know where to find Cerebro in the first place?"

"Because I told him," Magneto admitted.

Cecily rolled her eyes, her frustration palpable. She wanted nothing more than to eliminate Magneto right then and there but knew they needed him alive.

"I helped Charles build it, remember?" Magneto continued. "Mr. Stryker has powerful methods of persuasion, even against someone as strong as Charles."

"So who is this Stryker anyway?" Jean asked.

"He's a military scientist who's spent his entire life trying to solve the 'mutant problem,'" Magneto replied. "If you want a more intimate perspective, why don't you ask Wolverine?"

Cecily glanced at Logan, who met her eyes before looking away. Magneto continued, "You don't remember, do you? William Stryker, the only other man I know who can manipulate adamantium—the metal on your bones. It carries his signature."

"But the Professor—" Logan began.

"The Professor trusted you to figure this out on your own," Magneto interrupted. "He gives you more credit than I do."

Cecily's whispered words from earlier echoed in her mind: "No memory. He will have no memory." She hadn't realized she was talking about Logan all along.

As she zoned out, she noticed the others looking up and followed their gaze. "Oh... hello," the blue man said, hanging from the trees.

Jean prepared to read Kurt's mind, but Cecily had no interest in what he might reveal. She turned and walked back toward the ship, lost in her thoughts.

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Cecily stepped off the ship, inhaling deeply to clear her mind. She slowed her pace as she spotted Logan standing at the bottom of the ramp, his silhouette framed by the setting sun. "Hey," she greeted, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey," he replied, his gaze fixed on the horizon, lost in thought.

She glanced back at the ship, the weight of recent events hanging in the air, before turning her focus to him. "That was a lot to take in back there. You holding up okay?"

"Yeah," he said, though his tone felt hollow, a mere façade of reassurance.

"You sure?" she pressed, concerned. Before she could continue, he cut in, "How we doing?"

"Not great," Cecily admitted with a weary sigh. "I had to come out here; otherwise, I might have used a wrench on Jean's head."

"It'll take a couple of hours to get the ship airborne," Cecily said, stepping closer to him.

"That's not what I meant," Logan replied, his voice softening as he closed the distance between them. Cecily met his gaze, searching for understanding in the depths of his eyes.

"I'm worried," she confessed, finally descending the last of the stairs. "About the Professor, about Scott."

"I'm worried about you," Logan said gently, catching her off guard. "You've seemed off lately—back at the mansion, at the house."

With a deep sigh, she admitted, "It feels like controlling my abilities is getting harder. I feel like I'm not contributing enough."

Logan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, then moved it to the back of her neck. "Hey, you're doing fine. All right?"

"I'm just worried about Scott. He's like a brother to me," Cecily said quietly, vulnerability creeping into her voice.

"Is he now?" Logan replied, a hint of something more serious surfacing in his tone.

"Don't do that," Cecily warned, her expression shifting. "He's been one of the only people by my side since I was a kid." They stood in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words.

"Girls flirt with the dangerous guy, Logan; they don't take him home," Cecily said slowly, her eyes locking with his. "They marry the good guy."

"I could be the good guy," he replied, his gaze lingering on her with a roguish charm that sent a shiver down her spine.

Cecily raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips. "The good guy sticks around—" But before she could finish, Logan cupped her face, pulling her in with a fierce intensity. Their lips met in a kiss that spoke of years of unacknowledged feelings.

Cecily's eyes widened, and for a moment, she hesitated. Was this a good idea? He wasn't exactly the best choice for someone looking for stability. But one kiss couldn't hurt, right? As her lips met his, she responded with equal fervor, surrendering to the moment while resisting the primal urge to rip his clothes off like an animal.

The two of them slipped away to his tent, urgency propelling them inside. Cecily quickly pinned him against his sleeping bag, her breath coming in quick bursts as she fumbled with his jacket, eager to shed the layers between them. With a determined tug, she pulled it off, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

Logan let out a low chuckle at her eagerness, a wave of relief washing over him as she finally freed him from his jacket. He reached up, pulling her closer, his hands tangling in her brown curls. The world outside faded as he enveloped her in a fierce kiss.

Cecily playfully bit down on his lower lip, drawing a hint of blood. Logan winced, but rather than pull away, he leaned into it, relishing the sharp thrill of pain mixed with pleasure. He slid his hands under her shirt, lifting it slowly as he reveled in the moment. As the fabric cleared her head, he tossed it aside, his gaze lingering on her, a mixture of desire and admiration in his eyes.

Leaning forward, he pressed soft kisses against her chest, causing Cecily to flush a deep crimson. A rush of warmth spread through her as she instinctively cupped his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on.

"Cecily," he breathed, gazing up at her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. In a fluid motion, he shifted their positions, kissing a trail down her stomach, his lips teasingly exploring her pelvis. Cecily's breath hitched as she surrendered to the sensations, a mix of anticipation and desire swirling within her.

Logan used his teeth to deftly unbutton her jeans, then slid the zipper down, pulling the fabric away with a slow, deliberate motion. As he shifted between her legs, he gently placed them on his shoulders, his hands finding their way to her hips, anchoring her to him as he leaned in closer.