Jean nodded at his directions, exhausted in both mind and body. Or perhaps only in mind, but it was making her body feel made out of lead. First the flight to Craven Park, then the mental hurt of what she found there, and then the shielding and lifting him to the plane was all combining to give her a headache of monumental proportions, much as if the Statue of Liberty had stepped off her pedestal and was using her torch to prod at Jean's temples.
The straps cinched tightly around her as he took off, and while she wanted to get up and help him with the body (she refused to think of Nate as a body since HE WAS NOT DEAD) she just didn't have the energy. In fact, it was all she could do to keep her eyes open and her mental shields up. The last thing she wanted was for her current thoughts and despair to leak out to this Wolverine. Or, not so incidentally, the rest of Manhattan as they flew above it.
She did hear Wolverine's thoughts on Charles, though. She was too tired for her shields to keep everything out, especially given the heightened emotion they were both feeling. It only matched with her own feelings about the professor. Minus the attempts on his life, of course. The words he spoke to the body Jean heard more with her mind than her ears, but that was all right. The soft rumble of sound was comforting, really, as was his intention.
"You know the one who did this?" she asked softly, turning her face against the back of the chair to watch him.