To Survive

Chapter One

Dreaming Night

/thoughts/ Dreams *power in use*

In the dark recesses of the night the School for gifted youngsters lay still and quiet. All were tucked in and asleep, dreaming about lands of happiness or real homes. Or having nightmares about unreachable past memories; not able to sort which memory is real, and which is fake until you wake up. That is for all, except one. Logan.

Logan lay in his bed; glad that he was back, even if he was gone for but a month. He knew he would find hardly anything on his past, and it thrilled him in a way, but disturbed him. Now, he's dreaming of what could be real, or what could be a fake memory.

All is dark and cold. He tries to get up, but his held down by cold steel clasps. Logan looks around and still sees nothing, even with his enhanced senses he can't pick up a trace of anything.

He notices, in the dark distance, a glint of something silver. Logan realizes what this dream, or rather I say, nightmare. It's the day when they experimented on him.

Logan howled and yelled and fought against the clasps and his torturers, but to no use. He felt the sudden pain of being sliced open to the bone. Metal screws and the likings holding his flesh apart as they saw open his bone and proceed to make it somewhat hollow.

The next thing he feels is a molten lava liquid being poured into him. Logan screams in indescribable pain. They let his bone heal before they go, again, sawing at it. This time, on the outside. Tearing away the few layers of protection that his bone had.

He bellows in pain again as they keep doing that on the exposed side of his bone, then they poured, yet again, the molten lava liquid.

Much to Logan's already disliking, tears well up in his eyes and start to drip down his twisted and agonized face.

He looks to the side to see men in military dress uniforms holding their champagne glasses up in cheers for the so-far successful operation.

Logan feels more pain as they continue up his legs and to his torso. He turns back to see the men working on him when he feels someone tapping on his shoulder.

Logan blinks his eyes to see clearly. But what he sees next bewilders him. He sees black, just empty dark black. He senses that he's not alone, and in fear of "Them" coming back; he unleashes his claws with a 'snikt' and sticks the hovering person in the chest.

The next instant went by in a flash as he realizes that it's Rogue. She was trying to wake him up, to try and save him from his demons. And he repays her with three nine inch swiss blades in her chest.

He freaks and puts them back into his forearm as he yells for help, feeling helpless and guilty. He watches as no one comes and Rogue stumbles to the ground, with a look on her face that told him that she hated him and feared him.

With her last moments, Rogue chokes on her own blood and dies, with that same hate and fear look in her eyes as their lifeless gaze looked into his haunted ones.

Logan woke up screaming as he bolted up. Sweat greeted him as it glistened and rolled off his body and onto the sheets. Soon enough, Rogue comes bursting in to a screaming Logan, looking around to see if anyone is there.

Logan looks around at her and stops his yelling. He jumps up and grabs her and hugs her tightly, to the point where she's literally begging for air.

"Logan….You….Chokin…..me!!!…" she barely got out.

Logan let his arms relax a little as he realized that she was okay and that he didn't break his promise and hurt her. He sighed and rested his head on hers as he stroked her white streaked mahogany colored hair.

"Logan? Are you alright?" she asked as she looked up at his face. His eyes were closed and a look of relief was imprinted on his face. He opened his eyes and smiled.

"I'm fine now." he said and closed his eyes again, pulling her closer.

But, he didn't feel fine. In fact, he felt miserable. He wondered if Rogue was upset with him, or that she feared or even hated him. His eyes opened in thinking mode as he still held and stroked her hair. One thing that he didn't realize was that Rogue had leaned into him and was resting her head against his t-shirt protected chest, starting to drift to sleep to the sound of his calming, beating heart.

Logan and Rogue jumped out of their skin when Scott, Jean and Ororo came bursting through the door, ready for anything.

Logan cleared his throat as Rogue sleepily looked at the three.

"What is going on?" Scott asked as he lowered his hand away from his glasses.

"Logan had another nightmare." Rogue said, getting more and more awake by the second.

Scott looked at Logan who looked away. Scott glared at him and started forward. Jean, Ororo and Rogue stepped in his way in one way or another. Jean and Ororo had placed their hands on each of his shoulders and said "calm down" while Rogue went to explain.

"Trust me, you'd wake up yelling and grabbing people if you had the same dream." she said matter-of-factly.

Scott looked at her, his jaw clenched, then nodded and stepped back. Not because Jean and Ororo were holding him back and Rogue had stepped between him and Logan. But, because he knew Rogue had been having the same dreams, and that she was most likely the best person to help Logan at this point, even if he didn't like it.

Scott nodded again slowly and gave a last look to Logan before he turned around and left. Jean and Ororo nodded their heads as well and slowly went, giving a last look at the two before closing the door.

Rogue turned to him and smiled.

"Mind telling me about it?" she asked as she watched Logan think.

Logan looked at her and smiled.

"Maybe a later time, kid. You look tired." he said.

Rogue flinched inwardly as he used the word "kid" on her yet again. She nodded, gave a good-bye and left him to go back to sleep.

Logan sighed and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair as he sat on the edge of his bed. He tried to make out what the dream meant, what it was trying to tell him, but soon gave up as he started to get extremely tired. He climbed under the sheets and closed his eyes, hoping for a dream instead of a night mare.

----

Rogue had been tired, true, but she would've stayed with him if he wanted her to. She sighed and went to her bed, climbed in and went back to sleep, but not as fast as she would have liked.

Her mind came up with reasons why he didn't want her to stay, some ridiculous, others possible. After hours of contemplating what could be the explanation, she finally went to sleep. Dreaming of what was always welcomed and yet not welcomed.

----

Ororo had been asleep, in a nice deep sleep, before the yelling came. But she was glad that she was brought out of her tragic memory.

A little girl with her European father and African mother roamed the city streets of Cairo, Egypt. Looking through shop windows filled with wonderfully colored dress and glittering jewelry. Ororo, the little girl's name, happily strolled with her parents as they came to a halt on a street corner.

She was singing a lullaby that her mother kept singing to her. Her mother; with pure heaven white hair and ocean blue eyes, a priestess. Her mother joined along her as they swung their arms together. Ororo's father watched the women as they sang happily together, a look on his face that resembled a thought in his mind. What he thought; he thought that he was the luckiest and happiest man on this earth and wouldn't trade his place for anything.

But, the families happiness wasn't to last. The building next to them exploded. Ororo heard people scream and run for cover as debris fell from the sky and onto the rubble that her and her parents were under.

Unfortunately, Ororo was next to her mother and saw what she looked like. Her mother, with the once shining heaven hair and fulfilled blue eyes was now dead. Lifeless. Her white hair streaked with red blood stains and dirt. Her eyes lifeless and glazed over, with her own blood streaming into them.

Ororo panicked and panicked. She tried to get away but couldn't, her legs were stuck. She was buried alive next to her mother's corpse. No sunlight, no air. She felt as if the whole world was coming in on her, suffocating her.

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A-N- Is it good, or bad? Do I risk having large inanimate objects being propelled at me or drop the case and run for my life up the hill? Your choice.

Disclaimer- Characters, not mine. Story idea, somewhat mine. For everything else, there's Not a master card.