When I woke up the next morning, I found myself practically glued to Wolvie's side.

"Hey," he said gruffly, running his hand up and down my back in an all-purpose gesture of comfort. Again.

"Hey," I said, lifting my head up to look at him. He looked tired. And worried. I sat up in the bed, facing him with my legs crossed underneath me while he stayed lying down, either because he was tired despite his healing factor, or because he thought I took it as a non-threatening position for him to be in, I don't know. I bit my lip unsure of where or how to start.

Unloading the entire trauma to Lex, my British-exchange roomie at college, was surprisingly easy for me. That crazy redhead and I had a lot in common including mutated genes. Her mom worked with battered women so Lex grew up dealing with my kind of damage. Telling her when I hadn't told anyone for years was practically natural. Telling Logan would be anything but. Telling him would also involve managing him and his formidable rage. The last thing I needed was to have him fly off the handle in a growling, slashing fit of beserker anger with the agenda of running off to hunt down Bastion's guards and kill them. Something like that would definitely have the entire mansion in an uproar. And everyone finding out was not a pleasant notion for me.

"Jube," he urged gently.

I was helplessly clamping up on him. I couldn't for the life of me think of anything to say. The girl who spent her youth jabbering away because she felt the need to fill up the pregnant silences this troubled, haunted man produced was a ghost of the past.

"Would it be easier for you if I asked you questions?" He was so gentle, so tentative. The poor guy was walking on glass and I didn't know how to help him.

Finally I just nodded.

"When?" God, what a loaded question! There just wasn't going to be an easy way to do this. I decided on a different track.

"Wolvie, I need you to promise me something first. I need you to promise that you won't lose your temper and go crazy on me, k? I can't handle that right now. I can already tell ya that you're not gonna like a single thing I have to say. Can you do that for me?" He was probably thinking it happened in college. That it would be the easiest think in the world to track down some frat loser who had drugged me or something.

He studied me. "Is that why you didn't tell me sooner? Cause you were afraid of my reaction, darlin'?"

"It's not exactly somethin' I'd go around tellin' to everyone, Logan. It's hard to talk about. I love ya to death, and I know you'll always be there for me, but…" I trailed off. The ugly truth was that he wasn't always there for me. Sometimes circumstances outside of our control prevented it. Sometimes shit happens. Once Logan learned the specifics, I knew he'd feel guilty. My pain traded for the X-Men's escape.

He took a deep breath. Grabbed my hand. I squeezed back gratefully.

"I promise, Jubilation. I ain't gonna do anything drastic." He looked me directly in the eye, stormy blue eyes holding back a deep-seated anger—but an anger that was under control.

"When?" he asked again, his voice rough.

I took a deep breath, trying to tell myself that I wasn't helplessly trapped, that Logan only wanted to help me.

"Operation: Zero Tolerance."

He bolted up in the bed, a look of complete shock and despair overtaking his craggy features. "No," he whispered, "no."

He started breathing heavily and I was afraid that he would react the way he said he wouldn't, promise be damned. "Jubilation, how could you—how could you not tell anyone darlin'? It's been what? Five years? And the nightmares are still this bad?!"

I stared at him coolly until he finally calmed down.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because I was embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to know."

"We could have helped you."

I scoffed. "Maybe. Maybe not. I didn't really want your help, Logan." I tried not to sound so damn bitter, but failed. "You had your own shit going on. The fact that I had been kidnapped without anyone even knowing and tortured wasn't enough for special treatment."

Wolvie really does have this guilty expression that he's managed to perfect over the decades. He had the grace to wear it now.

"Jubilee—"

"Don't, Logan. I'm not blaming you, I'm not blaming anybody. What happened to me was not your fault. You and the X-Men were just as helpless" until I saved you "and technically, I was Frost and Banshee's responsibility. Everyone was having trouble, everyone was having near-death experiences; it was an all-around bad time to be a mutant."

He sat facing me in silence, mulling over my words.

"Ain't your fault either, darlin'. You know that, don't you?" he gripped my shoulders in an effort to instill this belief. "What happened to you was not your fault." Tears threatened again at his words, at his conviction.

"I know," I said in small voice, collapsing against him again. "I know."

I took a few shuddering breaths. I really didn't want to start sobbing again; last night was more than enough for me.

I knew there was more he wanted to know. "Ask."

"Was it a part of the torture for information? Or…a guard taking liberties?"

If I lied, he'd know. Oh, shit. "No…it wasn't a part of the regular…during the regular sessions…it was psychological. No one laid a hand on me."

"Then what changed?"

I shut my eyes. "I opened the door for you. Bastion wasn't watching…and…" I opened my eyes to look at him and instantly wished I hadn't.

"You…you freed us?" Horrible understanding dawned. "You…and they…"

In a flash, he was up from the bed, claws out, snarling like a beast from the bowels of hell, and pacing like a caged mad thing.

"Wolvie—please—don't do this…"

His eyes went red and my hair stood on end in alarm. The air practically crackled with his rage. I leapt at him grabbing at his arms in a ridiculously stupid move that should have gotten me skewered. "LOGAN! Please, please get it together!" I grabbed at his face with both hands, frantic for him too look at me and actually see me, frantic for him to listen to me.

He snarled and broke away. I lunged again wrapping my arms around him in a desperate hug. It was either draw in his claws or risk stabbing me. He retracted. And I yelled.

"DAMN YOU, LOGAN! YOU PROMISED ME! YOU FUCKING PROMISED!" He collapsed onto the floor, taking me with him and raggedly drew breath into his lungs. I looked up at him and was shocked to see tears running through his beard. "Wolvie…no…please…shhh…" I wrapped my arms around him tighter. I wasn't expecting this. I never expected this.

He squeezed back so hard I almost couldn't breathe. "God, Jubilation…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

God, I was a blubbering mess.

"Okay, shh, it's okay, Wolvie, please..."

He stiffened against me, regaining his control.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry."

His hands move to my hair, stroking through the strands gently for a long while.

"Who else knows, darlin'?" He finally asked after a while.

I pulled back to look him in the face again, because this was crucial for me. "Only Lex, my roommate. No one else, Wolvie, and I wanna keep it that way."

"What about therapy, Jubilation? Those nightmares seem like it happened recently. You can't go on like this, darlin'. You might think you're moving passed it, but you ain't."

"Lex is hooking me up. Her mom kind of specializes in, well, stuff like this."

"Isn't her mom in England?"

"That's what I said. But, yeah, they have someone who knows someone. I don't want someone here at the mansion, I don't want someone I've known for years, and I don't want a goddamn telepath looking into it, k?"

"Whatever you want, darlin'."

"Damn straight whatever I want."

I sighed, wanting to be done with the conversation, but could tell Wolverine had more to ask. I looked at him, waiting.

"Last thing, darlin' I promise. Why leave the bathroom light on? Is it-"

"I was blindfolded, Logan. I couldn't see anything, it was utterly dark and I never knew what was about to-to happen. I always sleep with a light on now." Which he wouldn't know since I never really lived in the mansion since I was thirteen.

"God, Jubes," he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, darlin'. I-if there's anything, anything I can do…"

I wrapped my arms around his middle and squeezed as hard as possible which isn't hard when you're all muscle and adamantium. "It's okay, Wolvie, really it is." Odd how reassuring him made me feel better. Then again, I always felt better when I was the one taking care of him. Maybe that's one of the reasons I held off on telling him. "I'm gonna be getting help, and it's not always this bad, my memories just got triggered recently, s'all."

He stiffened against me. "How?" His voice was deadly. Shit.

"Nothin' big. Stupid misunderstanding."

"Your lyin', Jubilation."

I sighed. God, his sense of smell was damned annoying sometimes.

"Don't worry about it, Logan."

"What happened?" He was a stubborn son of a bitch.

I rolled my eyes. "Drunken guy at a party went in for a feel…"

Here came the growling…

"Oh, calm down, would ya! Christ, ya think I can't handle myself against some macho jerk?! I kneed him in the balls so hard he threw up, k? Happy now?"

"No. Not if that's enough to cause these nightmares. Bastard deserves more than that—"

I slapped his chest with a heated-up palm to get my point across. "Don't go crazy-protective on my ass now, Logan, or I'll blast ya into the wall again. I grew up; I'm an adult, I can take care of myself, ok?" I was nose to nose to him, hoping that he'd register my proximity as a potential threat. "If I need your help, I know you'll be there, but you damn well better wait for me to ask!"

"What if somethin' prevents you from askin' darlin'?"

I rolled my eyes again. Scott and Emma hoped I'd grow out of it. I'll stop my eye-rolling when Wolverine stops growling. "You're a smart guy who's capable of interpreting situations accurately—right? I trust your judgment."

He looked at me solemnly. "You're gonna have to give me a grace period for a while, Jubilation. My judgment of such situations is gonna be skewed for a while."

I smiled at him. "Well, at least you're admitting it. I do believe you're growing as a person, Logan," I teased him lightly.

He gave me a small smirk of his own. "Brat," he muttered under his breath although he knew I could hear him perfectly well. And then: "Ok, darlin', breakfast time?"

I pulled back a bit. "Ummm…"

"C'mon, Jubes, you never turn down food."

I ducked my head down. "I usually skip breakfast after…a night like last night. I'll wait for lunch, k?"

He glowered at me and then came to the quick observation of "You're too damn skinny, kid."

"Oh, and you mention this now? Please, dude that's totally lame."

"I don't see you eat by noon—"

"Two," I counter. "I still consider noon morning."

"Fine. I don't see you eat by two, I'm throwin' Hank at you," he warned severely.

I sighed. Again. Dramatically. "Fine. C'mon, let's at least feed you, I don't like you on an empty stomach. You're too excitable."

He chuckled and it was wonderful to hear.