"They negated our powers," Logan bit out angrily, slumped in defeat against a maroon arm chair. The more this story progressed, the more frustrated and uncomfortable he became. Agitated. Charles had never seen him quite like this, like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. He pressed his mouth together in a grim line. "Collars. Like we're some damn animals, some of the guards were mutants, willingly-"

"I know, Logan." Charles soothed, his forehead worn out from furrowing. He pursed his lips together, there was no good way to say it. Ask it. Insinuate it. "I think," He swallowed hard. "I think we are starting to get close to the source of Rogue's trauma, aren't we?" Logan exhaled like a bull and the telepath shut his eyes. It was all becoming painfully obvious, but he needed to know.

Logan shut his eyes and leaned forward slightly, rather the man investigate than make him say it. Charles jumped back in.

Rogue came to with a jerk, trying to lift her head and regretting it later. She whimpered before she could help it, catching the glassy stare of the mutant beside her. "Stripe," He croaked, shuffling his position. 'He sounds awful...' She thought, forcing herself to sit up despite the blinding pain in the left side of her head and neck. Like a dagger to her spine. "E-Easy, darlin-"

She reached up and felt dried blood on her forehead. 'Whatever got me, got me good...' When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw Logan leaning worriedly over her. They were in some sort of cage or cell. And Logan was covered in dried blood as well, cuts and scars lining him that would not heal. 'No,' She tried to fly for shits and giggles, but was unable to. Something heavy was around her neck, and Logan's as well. "You, you're hurt-"

She scrambled for the bars despite the pain in her head. "You're concussed, don-"

She tugged on the bars, clattering metal to draw attention. "Hey!" She cried, tears in her eyes. She saw guards sitting around, doing nothing while they laid in filth. "Help, he's hurt! He's bleeding!" She called out to them desperately, scared that his mutation wouldn't work.

"Rogue, don't-" He begged, an anxiety behind his eyes. Charles, a third party to the memory, realizes that the guards likely beat Logan for trying to get her head wound treated. He feels a heavy presence on his soul, a reluctance to go on. But, he must. Logan pulled her weakly back from the bars, praying that she did not catch their attention. But, she did.

"Sleepin' beauty s'awake." One of them drawled, a look in his eye that Logan recognized. One he'd killed over. In a fluid motion that shouldn't have been possible with his injuries, he moved Rogue behind him and back against the far wall of the cell. She can feel his desperation, a wildness she'd never seen him pushed to. He was in Hail Mary mode. He was gonna do whatever he had to to keep them both safe.

She grabbed a sweat soaked bicep, her fingers trembling. He knew she would never judge him, but it wasn't that he was afraid of. The guards wearing beige uniforms slowly made their way to the cage, their rifles over their shoulders. Logan watched them, his eyes black. Observing. Calculating. Watching every movement, his mutation was gone but his feral instincts, were not.

"Get'er out the cage." The one with the shitty, out of taste porn-stache demanded. The rounder one obeyed, reaching down with his keys to open the cell. Before Rogue's concussed brain could even comprehend it, Logan flew in all his bloody fury. He descended upon the guard like he still had his claws, snarling ferociously to protect Rogue. 'Over my dead fuckin-'

Logan howled and hit the corner of the cage as the other guard maced him, a cruel smile on his face. "Stop it!" Rogue screamed while Logan his the ground and twitched. The guard snapped his finger towards her.

"Then get yer creamy complected little ass, out here." He pointed beside him. Rogue shut her eyes, praying lowly to herself.

"No," Logan yelled, his eyes crazed. "Rogue don-" He watched in horror as she stood, shaking. Finally, the guard let up on the stun gun. Logan fell to the concrete ground, panting and left numb. 'I'm fuckin' useless without my healing factor. Useless. Rogue-' She stepped outside of the cell, her stare already distant. The guard nodded in approval as the cell was locked. "Rogue-"

"There we go. Brando, why don't you take a fifteen..." Brando, or maybe Brandon, did not seem surprised by his coworker saying that. Mumbling to himself, he exited through a door to make himself scarce. Logan watched helplessly as he shoved himself to a sitting position. She didn't need to be alone, with any man, without her powers. Not like this.

"Listen you bastard-" But he did not pay Logan any mind.

"My name's Ryland." He reached with a bare hand and stroked Rogue, purple lip. Logan felt something snap inside of him when he watched Rogue shake, smelled her acrid fear.

"Let'er go. And, ya live." Ryland smiled, the expression twisted his face.

"I live?" He repeated, eyeing the curves of Rogue's growing body in her X-Suit. He flicked out a knife.

Logan blinked and he was backed into the corner of Charles' office, Scott, Jean, and Charles all looking at him strangely. Scott's hand was dancing around his glasses, but Jean has a hand on his arm. He exhaled, hard. Then again. "Where's-" What was going on? It had been so real, like he'd been trapped there again. Helpless.

"Kitty took her to Kurt. He's great with her." Jean said gently, breaking from Scott's side.

"Got lost in the memory," Scott murmured grimly. He had his eyes anchored on Logan, watching for any movements with Jean near. But, he had calmed, now. The professor had just gone too far, too fast. He was home, not on Genosha. Rogue wasn't... He inhaled deeply, trying slow his breathing.

"I want to see her." He said through one hand covering his face.

"I'll take you to her." Jean offered, grabbing his arm to lead him.

"We'll finish-" Charles began.

"After." Logan answered flatly, the mental probing leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. There was a reason his memory kept them at bay. Mere thoughts were enough to drive him into a berserker rage, today was proof. He sighed, stewing in silence beside Jean the whole way. She could sense the heavy feelings pervading him and didn't expect conversation.

They found the girl curled under Kurt's blue comforter, fast asleep. He was studying at his desk, his nose buried deep in books. Logan watched her sleep for a moment, his anxiety quelled. "Ah, she seemed tuckered out from earlier." He cast a wistful glance back at his bed. "She's a handful, huh?" Logan didn't answer, but Jean nodded. It was getting late, and though she could, Kitty couldn't be asked to look after Rogue.

"Hmm, I guess we do need to decide where she-" Logan wordlessly scooped her into his arms, leaving her undisturbed.

"There's a bed in my room I barely use, anyway. I'll make sure she doesn't get into anything." He offered, stone-faced. Kurt scratched his head.

"But, vhere vill you-"

"I won't be sleeping a lot, Elf." He tossed a worried glance to the girl sleeping in his arms. "Not with her like this." When she was settled in his room and Ororo was reading a novel nearby should she wake or have a nightmare, he returned to the office where the telepath was waiting anxiously for him. The more he was left to his own mind to ruminate, the worse it got. Now, he understood what was plaguing the man. 'Oh, Logan...'

"Are you sure that-"

"Yes." Logan cut in tiredly, the bags under his eyes a mile long. The sun had set long ago, and even though he was tired, he couldn't imagine sleeping anytime soon. "You said it'll help, right?" He grunted, planting himself in the chair before he changed his mind and left to go on a motorcycle ride. Charles hung his head, as though he was guilty.

"Yes, it will." He admitted. Logan sighed and leaned forward.

He flicked out a knife. "Mutants aren't callin' the shots 'round here, right girl?" A deep, visceral growl rumbled in Logan's throat when the guard yanked Rogue close to him, her body spilling onto his. That's when she finally reached her breaking point. She began screaming and spitting like a wildcat, fighting back only the way someone trained by Logan could, almost getting the slip depowered.

Ryland brought his fist to Rogue's gut and the air whooshed painfully out of her lungs. She cried out, collapsed against the man as he took the opportunity to become familiar with Rogue's physique. He moaned and she whimpered, causing Logan to scream out in a blind fury. He felt like an animal, not a man, as he watched the guard take liberties with his hands, liberties nobody had taken with her.

"ROGUE-"

"She cute, for'a goth bitch." He continued, leering into her face while she shut her eyes. "She yours?" He questioned, tossing a grin back at the cell.

"Let me out," Logan demanded, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "Let me out."

Rogue spat in the guard's face, covering his sunglasses in one shot. His grip tightened on her arm and she hissed in pain, Logan trembling in the cage. "Go to hell," She whispered, refusing to go out crying and whimpering in front of Wolverine. 'It'll just make it fuckin' worse.' She thought, and neither of them needed it to be worse. Most guys were all talk, he knew what he powers were. How dangerous she was.

He removed his glasses slowly, his grin still wide. He stared into her stormy eyes with eyes as black as coal. "I like you." He brought the knife up, the silver glinting in the light. Rogue turned her head away, Logan rising to his feet.

"Take me, torture me. Leave her alone!" He watched in terror as Ryland brought the knife clean through the lycra fabric of Rogue's uniform. It stretched and split, revealing milky, porcelain skin. Luckily covered by plain, seamless, black underwear. Rogue swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as the terrible realization of what Ryland wanted dawned on Logan.

"What makes ya think ya got anythin' I want, mutie?" He snarled, pressing himself against Rogue's back. She inhaled sharply as he began peeling the fabric back, the cold air making goosebumps on her skin. She felt him get hard just from her touch. 'Finally touchin'...' She thought, almost going numb at the thought. 'And it's...' "Cain't normally touch this one, either? How nice..."

"Rogue," Logan croaked. "Don't think about it. Don't think about him. Focus on me," He begged, his knuckles bloody from banging on the bars. "Rogue," She was going somewhere in her mind, and he needed her to stay with him. She gasped when he took a nibble at the base of her neck, the sensation repulsing her. Making her curl inward, dry heave. Reminding her of something very, very bad. "Rogue,"

"Ya like that, girl? Huh?" The phrase was simple enough, breaking forth a dam of repressed memories full of pain, fear, and incomprehensible things. 'Girl...' Somebody else used to call her that. Make her cry. 'Girl?'

"ROGUE," In a sudden, violent movement the rest of the uniform is torn from her, her skin a strobe in the dark dungeon.

"There we go, see, I like that." He inhaled Rogue's neck and it made her teeth chatter. Logan pulled helplessly against the bars, feeling his grip on humanity slipping. In a slow, terrifying dance he dragged the silver weapon up Rogue's skin like it was snow. Tickling her. Tantalizing her. Raping her sense of touch as much as he intended to her. "Can't do this all the time, make it sweet for ya."

"I'm gonna hang you by your entrails." Logan promised. His face was chillingly even now, pushed past the point of emoting. Begging. Bargaining. He had crossed a line a long time ago, this warranted death. "Maybe wrap them around your puny neck, would you like that? Dealer's choice. You pick how you want your colleagues to find you."

The knife made it to her black bra strap, nicking it and leaving one, bottom heavy breast exposed. Death flashed in Logan's eyes, and not just death, but the most painful one he could imagine. Rogue was whimpering, now, the cold flashing across her nipple like the knife, itself. "Aw, she's got lil' ghost nipples. Like a porn star-" He cut the other strap and she screamed as her whole chest was left bare. One dirty, tanned hand grabbed a breast and Rogue bit her tongue until it bled.

She whimpered and he pinched her breast until it turned into a moan.

"YOU,"

Ryland moved his hand to Rogue's underwear and Logan went silent. Not a muscle moved, he didn't even breathe. "You don't want me to mess her pretty little body up, do ya?" Logan said nothing. He brought his knife down painfully slow, his eye contact with Logan, not Rogue. "You been wonderin' what's under here too, huh?" Rogue inhaled. "You her daddy? Or her daddy? Which is it, girl?"

"Drop her, NOW," He wrenched on her tight, exposing the white of her neck. His fingers danced around the waist line of the black underwear.

"Please," A single tear slipped out of her eyes. Logan would've gnawed his own arm off to get to her. "Don't." Her voice broke, and something else inside of her did, too.

"Don't?" Ryland repeated, a bit giddy. "Aw, don't worry, girl. He wouldn't blame me." He sliced through the underwear, leaving Rogue bare. 'Girl.' It's what her father used to say. What he used to call her when he did things no father should ever do to his daughter. To any girl her age. Suddenly, the air is sucked out of the room in a vacuum. 'No. Not, again.'

Logan can't heal, but nothing can block his sense of smell. He can tell from the shift in her posture, to the color of her skin. The scent she's giving off. Something was changing. Things were going from bad, to worse. "Marie!" Logan snapped, watching her cover in a sheen of sweat. "Breathe, okay? Just breathe." Ryland tugged her harshly when her knees refused to work.

"Prefer to lay?" He tossed her hard on her hip and she cried out when she hit the concrete.

"Don'tyoufuckingtouchherIsweartofuckinggodI'lldestroyyourentirebloodline-" Logan was going beserk in the cage, a hell hound trying to do anything to get to Rogue.

She scrambled backwards, cutting her palms on rocks and glass as she tried to get away from an increasingly menacing Ryland. "Aw, don't worry, girl. It ain't that bad. It'll be the best... Ten minutes of your life." Rogue sobbed, which prompted Logan to think of a way to break his arm so he might be able to slide between the bars. 'Anything,' He thought, feeling his soul being wrung out.

"No, please... Daddy, Ah-" Logan froze, feeling himself go numb all over. "Ah promise Ah'll be good just... Please..." She was cowered in the fetal position, her body as small as she could make it. She was trembling, her forehead pressed against the concrete ground. Ryland just stared, his boner suddenly going soft. He was a bastard, but even he couldn't find that attractive.

Whistling, he grabbed Rogue harshly and tugged her towards the cell. Logan prayed to himself, his tired body shaking with adrenaline. The cell was unlocked and Rogue was tossed back in, naked. Shaking. "Gals and their daddy issues, right?" He sneered, watching in amusement as Logan shed his layers, anything to cover Rogue with. She was shaking and cowering, pressed as far away as she could be, even from Logan.

He tore off his shirt and draped it around her, but the damage was done. She wouldn't face him. Acknowledge him. This whole event had triggered something, something very serious. "Rogue-" He tried, his voice breaking. She screamed out, breaking out into sobs worse than when she was stolen for Apocalypse. She held herself, making herself as tiny as she could be.

Logan forced himself to give the girl some space, fantasizing about the guard's blood. What he would do to him-

With a cry, Charles severed his connection to Logan's memories. He had prepared himself for the worst, but he hadn't been ready to see what happened to Rogue while Logan felt it. They were some of the darkest feelings the telepath had encountered in a long time, and he couldn't blame him for it. What he had seen was vile, and it wasn't the end. He found himself angrier than he had been in a long time as he pulled away.

Logan was sweating and panting himself, but he shook his head. "I can keep-"

"I need the break." Charles filled in somberly, one hand his temple. "That was hellish, Logan. I never should've suggeste-"

"Not your fault." Logan cut in sadly. Nobody was shouldering his blame on this one.

"I pushed you to go on this bonding mission with help her come to term with her powers and what happened..." He lowered his head into his hands with a muffled cry. "Now, look what she'll need to deal with. I was a damn fool-"

"No, you weren't." Logan insisted. "I can't be killed and she has the strength of a hundred men. Neither one of us expected to have a greeting club waiting for us." He sighed, becoming angry and frustrated all over again. "She was mine to look after." The telepath covered his mouth with his hand.

"I have always wondered... Worried about her life before Mystique." Logan shut his eyes, hoping he wouldn't have to continue talking about what they both saw. "She's given me permission, but I've never been able to access any memories... I always was scared she repressed them, because it would mean something like this." He stared at the knitted blanket on his lap that Ororo had made for him.

"She's told me she can't remember." Logan said stiffly. "One of many things we have in common."

"Logan," Charles began gently. "It appears the abuse she suffered at the hands of the guard, well. It triggered her. Triggered her to a trauma so severe, so deep, that happened at such a crucial developmental stage that she blocked it out to protect herself." He spoke slowly, carefully, and not because the man was slow. He was very intelligent, in fact. And, capable of reacting. "One that seems linked to her real father."

Logan's claws were already out. "So," He tried, fighting the urge to cut furniture. "Now, why-"

"A defense mechanism. Rogue retreated into her mind at that moment, didn't she?" Logan nodded. "And, she let another personality take over?" He nodded again.

"Yeah. An old friend." He reported sourly. "Ms. Danvers."