Although everyone had seen or heard what happened earlier that evening, they didn't plan any rescue. Everything remained as normal as possible, each to their own activities until bedtime, which had been late for everyone. Even then at the late midnight hour, Danielle had yet to appear. The only life seemed to be a few miles away, where the lights and noises were every weekend. Otherwise, the mutants of the ghetto faded away into the darkness, afraid of their own shadows as they followed the curfew and disappeared into their homes, the time ticking closer to the next day. Even the night shift of guards were following the routine, seeming bored as their glances longingly were pointed to the commotion.

Xavier, Magneto and Hank had opted to stay behind, trying to help Logan round the children up and get them to bed (or even within eyesight, for safety's sake). Devon had appeared out of nowhere around eleven, disheveled and distracted by something, but escorting Rogue back upstairs kindly enough before coming back to see Logan. Although annoyed, Logan could not fault the nineteen-year-old for having his own life. However, Devon's sharp glance at him said volumes. He might have heard what happened and was blaming Logan for everything.

Ororo and Matthew had gathered in the kitchen, picking at some leftovers and trying to keep the atmosphere light with announced midnight snacks, but nothing deterred the younger kids from asking questions. Although getting along better, Michael and Riley peppered Logan with so many inquiries about their mother that even Hank was annoyed. Eventually, after feeding Daken a bottle and putting him in the crib by the bed in the living room, Logan had enough and ordered the two to bed. Although receiving the usual pouts, the two obeyed, saying good night to everyone before going to their beds, possibly staying awake to eavesdrop on the adults' conversations.

Logan could hardly care less is those two speculated theories and heard things to prove or debunk them. As long as they were out of the way, he could think more clearly. He could worry about one less thing, knowing the kids were safely in bed, and not have to show everyone that he was a caring man. Ororo even came over to him as he was sitting at the dining room table after the fight to go to bed, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You're doing a pretty good job for someone not used to this," she said, trying to joke around.

Logan brushed the hand away. "Some days, I wonder."

"No, Logan, you're doing great."

"Yeah, some father I am."

"You're getting used to it. That's all anyone could ask for. I'm sure Danielle appreciates everything you've done for her."

"She's handled everything for the most part. I handle the worst of it, when she's too tired and I can't stand that she's falling asleep on her feet."

"But she never complains?"

Logan shook his head.

"Don't you think she would have said something if she had a problem?" Ororo asked him.

"No," Logan replied. "She's changed, Storm. She's changed a lot and you have yet to see it."

"She's a private person," Ororo admitted. "Nobody knows her very well and she smiles even when she has a knife stuck in her back. I think you're the only person she's opened up to. I don't think she even told Jean and myself everything. That says a lot, since we knew her longer and guided her the best we could."

"I doubt it. I'm sure there's always something wrong."

Ororo saw that she was getting nowhere with Logan. She moved away slowly, trying to make it natural as everyone milled in and out of the dining room with their late dinners or the snacks made, but eventually hid in the bedroom around the corner. She undressed, taking advantage of the fact that Teller and Matthew were not around to make comments (although she liked Matthew more and more and did not mind his), and entered the kitchen, watching Logan stare out the window. As Teller and Matthew entered the bedroom to get ready for bed, she watched Xavier, who wheeled himself over, soon got Logan's attention, hopefully for the best.

"She'll come back," Xavier pointed out to Logan. "They promised."

"Promises mean nothing, Professor," Logan said sharply. "You and I know that. What does a word mean, when all we receive are broken ones?"

"Because you need to have the faith that it will work out in the end," Xavier replied confidently. "Because you need to keep that for the children, so they would have the same confidence you do and move on. They need you as their strength when the worst happens."

"Do you know how many times I've already thought I lost Danielle?" Logan asked Xavier bluntly. "You know how many times I've had to hold her, make sure that she was real, and ask myself if she was alive? You know how tired I am that she has been a target for many years now and I was never there to protect her? That I've had to see the results of their work and never know how to start on the next step in recovery? That I left her in her time of need and others picked up the pieces I left behind?"

Xavier had to concede that Logan had a few good points and he emphasized with him. He recalled many times before too, when he had to bail Danielle out of a few things and pick up the pieces that something left behind. Some of them were her fault, he knew, and were part of her growing up as she did. Some of it was out of her control and had to be swept under a rug before it became a problem. However, he had to also agree that Storm, Scott and Jean also had turbulent childhoods too, all of the starting in the first wave of mutant hatred. Danielle was just the first true victim, all the name of keeping them all safe.

"Then, consider this the new beginning," Xavier urged. "An ending means a new beginning. Everyone goes through the stages, Logan. Sometimes, it comes and goes many times, like an ocean wave. But there's always a way to get out of it. You've realized for the first time in your life that you've found someone you could trust and spend whatever years left to her with you. People have always wanted Danielle dead, Logan, but if that was to happen, that would have happened years ago. She's a survivor."

Magneto snorted behind Xavier, mumbling something about love being a poisonous disease that eats at the soul and slowly consumes it until death. While Xavier shot him an uncharacteristically annoyed look that said volumes, Hank nodded. Logan almost rubbed his eyes when he saw an agreement between Hank and Magneto, but did not need to. Xavier turned his wheelchair around to look at his two oldest friends harshly, his lips a tight line across his face.

"I can't argue, Charles," Hank said plainly. "Erik has a point."

"We only had to share the same woman to find that out," Magneto added, laughing.

"What?" Logan looked at the three strangely, but a pit in his stomach told him something that he probably wasn't supposed to know.

Xavier turned his wheelchair around again. "Mystique. She was like a sister to me and even came with me willingly to work with the CIA before Cuba."

"Are you serious?" Devon asked. Logan forgot that he was there, scowling as the curious young adult searched for more scandalous details.

"Don't you have a bed to warm elsewhere?" Logan asked Devon, annoyance lining his voice.

"Not if I have someone else watching us," Devon replied smartly.

"Out of here," Logan ordered in a growl.

Devon did not move. He seemed to have heard something that the others had missed. His eyes followed a shadow walking by the windows, finally easing his way the door. He opened it, waiting for their visitor, and turned the lights on, sitting in the back hallway. Logan was fascinated, getting out of his chair and following Devon, curious without his senses. When he arrived though, he saw Danielle walk through the back door. Words could not describe the homecoming, but Logan stopped in his tracks before even saying a greeting.

Instead, Logan saw Devon make the first move, as he thought the young adult should. Saying hello, Devon slowly went over and hugged Danielle gently, saying how glad he was to see her. Danielle buried her face into Devon's chest (which was about level with her head anyway), saying nothing. She tolerated it for a few more minutes before Devon let go, saying that he had to go upstairs. Then, Logan and Danielle watched him, a guard at the top to ensure his arrival inside the upstairs apartment, and eyed each other with different views. It was like they were two different people again, Logan thought, and that he had to start over again.

"Hey," Danielle finally said to Logan, almost like a breath of fresh air.

"Hey." Logan reached over for his embrace, but Danielle flinched away.

"Please," she begged. "Give me a day to shake this off. Please."

"They didn't –" Logan began.

"No." The word seemed solid, final and the truth.

Danielle did not want to talk anymore. She passed Logan and went inside, but not before Logan saw what made her a little twitchy. She was dressed like a doll, he noticed for the first time. Her hair had been cut to her shoulders and had been hair sprayed to make it stay still, all of it so unlike her. Makeup made her too artificial, like she was a painting and not a human. A dress he had never seen before graced her body and was worn almost like she was a sex figure, never to be touched and meant to be seen.

Logan tensed up, realizing what happened. Danielle had been used as a tool. She may never had been touched, much as Peter Ellis had done to her many months before, but she had been used in other ways. What they were, he could easily imagine, but he would not press for details now. Tomorrow was another day and the day after another chance. She would talk eventually.

Entering the apartment and closing the door behind him, Logan watched the greetings Danielle received. She said nothing to everyone (even Ororo), only stating that she would need to shower. She went to the living room, briefly seeing Michael, Riley and Daken as they slept, and gathered some of her own clothes. She then went to the sink just outside the bathroom, dropping her clean clothes on top of the washer next to her and finding some cold crème. As the others returned to bed or to their own apartments (Hank, Xavier and Magneto saying good night), Logan watched Danielle. She rubbed the white substance on her face, allowing it to set before she took a wash cloth and wet it with warm water, wiping her face clean. Streaks of beige and blue stained the cloth and soon the sink as Danielle wrung it out carefully, turning on the water to rinse it away.

When she was finished, Danielle glanced at Logan, her face raw from the scrubbing. She walked over to him and gently hugged him, leaning her head against his neck. Logan returned the embrace, surprised that Danielle even wanted intimacy, but soon released her. He put his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked her, unsure of what else to say.

Logan felt a deep releasing of weight underneath his hands, from the way Danielle's shoulders went up and down. "I'm fine," Danielle confirmed, her lower lip quivering. "They took me to town. They had me dress up and play."

Logan knew what Danielle meant. "Why don't you shower before the water is turned off?"

"I will." Danielle shrugged Logan's hands off of her and turned around, taking her clothes and heading into the bathroom. She locked the door behind her, which would surely annoy the guard coming in tonight, but Logan was not concerned about that.

No, he was more concerned about Danielle more than anything else. He was grateful that she was alive, no doubt about it. That she came back the way she did was no shocker. However, the ability to not feel what she was feeling still bothered Logan, who had gotten used to feeling so close when she was so far away. He went to the door, hoping to hear something that would betray anything Danielle was thinking. He did not have the hearing he used to, but Logan was sure he would get something.

After some minutes, no water was still running. Logan strained his ears to listen and tried discerning one noise from another, frustrated that he no longer had those abilities. He soon figured out what was going on though, aching to do anything for Danielle, and knowing that he could not. He then strolled away from the door, heading to bed slowly with one fact in mind.

Danielle was crying…and there was no way to wipe away the tears this time.


It got so late last night, I forgot to credit the lyrics from the previous chapter. The first was Ella Henderson's "Ghost" and the last Jame Blunt's "1973". And as always, if you have concerns, please let me know. Thank you!