If Jean can't, then Phoenix can. They work together, forming two large pieces of a bigger whole and Jean looked at Theresa, then at Spider-Man, trying to pick the mental locks when she already knew where they stored the spare key.

Or at least she used to.

Her concentration dissolved into worry when there was no sound, to rush of thoughts through her head. "I can't..." She closed her eyes trying to reach further, to see if she could a psychic reading from anything. "There's nothing there. It's like a wall or silence. I can't here a thing."