Sanctuary by Christopher Golden

nearby, and she wished they would stop. "Jean, you've got to snap out of it! Scott needs you! Scott's going to die if you can't help him!"
    Scott? she thought, confused.
    Then she heard his voice, his mind in hers, speaking to her. Thinking his thoughts inside her own mind.
    Jean! Jean, you've got to help us!
    It hit her hard and fast, Scott's mental voice triggering her return to reality. The explosion, the Starjammer spinning out of control, Scott and Ch'od ... lost. Untethered. Somewhere in space.
    "Jean?" Corsair asked, above her, holding out a hand to help her up.
    She took it, rising immediately to her feet and then using his shoulders, strong like his son's, to steady herself.
    "How long?" she asked .
    "Just a few seconds," he answered, his words just as curt, just as hurried. "Jean, can you ..."
    "Quiet, Corsair," she snapped unintentionally. "I've got to concentrate, search space just to find them. Then, we'll see if I've got the strength it's going to take to pull them back."
    Corsair's mouth snapped shut. He squeezed her arm once, gently, and helped her sit in the pilot's seat. As much as she tried to focus all of her thoughts on her search for Scott, there was still a part of her left disoriented by the injury to her head. She had banged it pretty good on something there in the cockpit, and couldn't even recall what it had been. In the few seconds she had been semi-conscious, her mind had heard and recorded much, only some of which was beginning to register with her. Raza had been injured, rather badly. Rogue was bringing him into the Starjammer and she and Corsair would rush to treat the cyborg's wounds. That made three wounded, not including herself, and two possibly ...
    No. She would not allow herself even to think it. Dead, lost in space, it meant the same thing. There was no way that Jean Grey was going to give up on the love of her life. No matter how vital the X-Men were, how important Professor Xavier's dream was to the world, none of it meant anything to Jean without Scott Summers by her side.
    Scott! she thought; sending the alarmed voice of her mind out into the ether of space. It was a wave of power from her brain, a huge net that she hoped would capture something, anything. She had heard his voice before, she was certain of it. So he had to be out there. But where, and how far? Would she be able to ...
    "Jean, is that necessary?" Archangel said from the cockpit hatch behind her. She turned to see that he was clutching his head with both hands. Blood flowed from his nose.
    "Only if you don't want Scott to die out there, Warren," she snapped, perhaps more harshly .than she wished.
    Archangel only nodded and moved back into the . cabin. Jean knew it was going to hurt them, all of them. But she had to try at least one more wide-spectrum mental sending, to try and get Scott to respond. She could sense him out there, in space. Knew that he was still alive. But she couldn't locate him. She would need real communication to do that.
    Scott, answer me, please! she sent, and heard a groan from the main cabin behind her.
    Silence. Several painful seconds ticked by, and then Scott's voice returned to her mind.
    Jean, thank God! he said. Can you get us back?
    She didn't respond for a moment, spending the time instead tracking his mental voice back to its source. Then she had him. Had both of them. Scott and Ch'od were still hurtling away from the ship. Already they were more than a mile distant. On Earth, it would have been impossible for her to use her telekinesis over such a distance. But this was different. The same rules hardly applied. There was nothing separating them but the hull of the Starjammer , nothing interfering with her powers. She thought, or rather, she hoped, it would be possible. But she would have to combine her telekinesis with her telepathy.
    Scott, listen, she thought, sending it as a narrowly focused mental signal that would not affect the others on board the ship. You've got to get hold of