Title:  The Demons Within

Author:  Angel LeeAnn

Rating:  PG-13

Summary:  Logan begins to remember his distant past.

Disclaimer:  Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.  Yet, Charles Scott is all mine!

Chapter One

Morning Ritual

The sun splashed across the room, sneaking up onto the bed and blinding Logan in the eyes.  He squinted and grumbled, shifting into a position away from the light.  A warm body next to him curled up tighter against him and a soft voice murmured, "Is it time to get up?"

"Yes."

"Will we?"

"Eventually."

The woman snuggled deeper into his chest, burying her head of auburn hair into the crook of his neck.  "Do you think Charlie is awake?"

"Definitely."

"Do we care?"

"Not at the moment."

She laughed, rising her face off her human pillow.  "Should we care?"

"Yes," Logan grunted and rolled away from her warmth to crawl off the bed.  "Let's go, Marie.  If I have to get up then so do you."

Rogue threw a pillow at him, smacking him in the head.  "Shut up, Logan," she giggled, "and go take care of your son."

Logan muttered obscenities under his breath as he slipped a pair of jeans on over his boxers.  He glared back at his wife who only ducked her head back under the covers.  Clenching his teeth, he strolled across the room and flung open the adjoining door that connected the two bedrooms.

Rogue flinched when she heard Logan roar, "God damn it, Charlie!  What the hell are you doing?"

She sighed and forced herself off the mattress, setting her bare feet onto the cool wood surface.  "Calm down, Logan.  I'm sure it ain't all that bad."  She came up behind her husband and peered around his shoulder.  She sighed at the scene in front of her.  "Charlie," she scolded her son.  "What did mommy tell you about using finger paint on the walls?"

The little boy, his lips quivering due to his father's yelling, gazed up at his mother with his liquid puppy brown eyes.  Rogue melted in the spot, staggering over to kiss his chubby cheek.  "It's ok, Charlie.  Daddy didn't mean to scream so loud."

Logan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rogue ignored him.  "Mommy will clean it up, but don't ever do it again."  She handed Charlie over to Logan.  "Daddy will take you downstairs for some breakfast."

Logan glanced at her, silently letting her know that he didn't approve of her tactics.  He then grabbed Charlie by the wrist, avoiding the paint all over his chubby, gloved fingers.  "What do you want?  Cereal?"

Charlie peered up at his father, trying to register his mood.  The little boy must've found forgiveness for his frown flipped into a beaming smile.  "No!  I want Fench toast!"

Logan rolled his eyes, leading his son out into the hallway.  "How about a bowl of delicious Cocoa Rice instead?"

Charlie shook his head.  "No."

They made their way to the kitchen, passing a few students on the way.  Everyone stopped to greet the adorable three-year-old good morning.  Finally making it to the kitchen, Logan put his arm out in front, opening the door.  Charlie skipped inside, heading straight for the fridge to pull out the eggs.  Logan snatched him away.  "NO!  You'll drop them again.  And your mother isn't here to clean up after you."

Charlie's gaity slipped away.  "Sorry," he mumbled, peering down at his feet.

Logan sighed, squeezing his eyes shut briefly before crouching down to be level with his son.  "Listen, Charlie, you just can't be doing things I've told you not to do, ok?"  He ruffled the boy's hair.  "You're such a handful, kid."

Charlie, laughing, backed away from his dad's hand.  "Daddy!  No more!  Make me eggs, pwease?"

"I thought you wanted French toast."

"No.  Eggs."

Logan growled as he retrieved a pan.

The door swung open and Storm walked in, waving at Charlie.  She saw Logan's tight face and shook her head.  "You know you love it."

"Of course," Logan replied sarcastically, but really meaning it.  As difficult and out of place being a parent was too him, he wouldn't give his son up for the world.

Storm got a juice out of the fridge.  "See you later, Logan," she called over her shoulder as she left.

Charlie flopped down onto the ceramic tiled floor, a few feet away from Logan and the stove.  Logan glanced back and winked at him.  Charlie sighed happily.

End Chapter One

NOTES:  I am purposely spelling some of Charlie's words wrong.  At three, a toddler's pronunciation isn't perfect.