Logan would have appreciated the suit's discomfort if he had anymore positive feelings for the Mutant government than he did Washington. Instead he simply had additional people to do his best to ignore. Thankfully it would rather cut down the travel time.

When they arrived, he immediately felt it. Off in the distance, the rhythmn of that song, drifting over the horizon. He didn't hear it, he felt it. In his mind, through his body, down to his adamantium clad bones. He shimmered with the memory of the long years, of pain and loss and joy. All at that song.

[i]And you leave on your own[/i]

"I didn't leave, Jeanie." When he spoke, the world around him ceased to be. The present medled into the past, into the rolling estates of a school he had once called home. Of course, she was there waiting. Every moment he beheld her she seemed to flicked in a different time of their being, from the young woman he'd first met, to the blazing conqueror of the cosmos, and everything in between. Perhaps his mind couldn't settle on who Jean Grey should be to him, perhaps neither could she.

"I didn't leave." He spoke again, as much to himself as to her, stepping forwards, impossibly drawn to the woman he had buried, buried on the ends of his own claws. Any distance melted in a moment, before his arms met around her, pulling her to him with as much force as he could bring, the surge of her hair cascading around his senses. He could not bring himself to question, not for now, not for this moment. For this moment she was back, and she hadn't left.