"So, what happens when you have these dreams, kiddo?" Logan asked. Rogue sighed. "Ah'm not really sure. Ah start havin' a dream, n usually somethin's goin' on, like a dance recital…or ah'm runnin', or swimmin'…or anythin'…then ah wake up, n ah'm somewhere else. Like lahst night, when ya found me by tha lake…ah was dreamin' ah was swimmin'. Ah was doin' tha backstroke n then there was a woman, n she was tellin' me ta come back. N ah was so mad, ah…ah…oh mah god!" "What?" "Ah did it ta mahself…oh god!" Suddenly Rogue began to cry. Logan was caught off guard. As Rogue's body racked with sobs, Logan sat beside her and put an arm around her. "Kiddo, what're you goin' on about?" "Ah did it ta mahself Logan! Ah can't believe it!" "Did what to yourself?" "Mah powers! Ah…oh god!" Logan sighed. *Charley you there?* *I'm always here Logan. What seems to be the problem?* *Rogue. There's somethin' wrong. She's cryin' 'bout somethin' she did to herself. And what it has to do with her powers, I don't know, but that's what she's sobbin' about.* *I see. Bring her to my office Logan. I do believe we should look deeper into this.* *Sure thing Chuck. Be right there.*

"Come on darlin'," Logan said, helping Rogue to her feet, "Chuck wants 't take a good look at 'cha." Rogue followed him back toward the mansion. As they entered it, a rush of images converged on her. She stopped, crying out, as they overcame her. Logan turned to see her fall to the ground, clutching her head. The panic was emanating off her in waves. It was so strong, he could smell it. "Rogue? Rogue!" He gave her a quick shake, but she didn't respond. Rogue looked up and saw a tall man with brown hair looking down at her, his hands poised above her head. That was the last thing she saw before slipping into unconsciousness. This time she would not wake up.

Pietro sat at the kitchen table staring at the necklace Rogue had given him. He'd been sitting there for the past five hours, unmoving. There was just something about the necklace he couldn't place. Rogue had given it to him for a reason. She had told him it was important to her, and that it had something to do with the day she collapsed at school; more importantly, she said he should recognize it. Then why couldn't he? Furious, he slammed his fist against the table. Staring at the necklace was getting him no where. And yet he couldn't put it down. It pulled at something deep inside him that he couldn't place. He sighed and leaned back in the chair. Holding the necklace, he dropped it, slipping his index finger through the chain. Absently, he began to swing it back and forth. The early morning light began to dance along the pendant's glittering surface. As the sunlight caught the bow of the heart, Pietro's mind flashed a similar image. He froze, grabbing the pendant. His brows furrowed in thought.

In the next instant he was in his room, going through his closet. 'The box. I know it's here somewhere.' Aided by his mutant ability, he found what he sought in under a minute. Rushing over to his bed, he quickly spilled the contents of the box on it and began to search. The box had always been sacred to him. A place where he kept things he didn't remember getting; pictures of people he couldn't remember meeting. In effect, it was a living skeleton closet; a place where not even he knew the answers. He slowed as he saw it, then with unbelief, gently lifted it. Holding it in his open palm, he stared. It couldn't be. He opened his left hand, Rogue's necklace greeting him. He looked from one hand to the other, then slowly brought them together. It was then that he noticed the indentations on Rogue's pendant. He looked at his own, sighting the small bump almost immediately. With trembling hands he brought the hearts together, and with a soft *click* they joined.

Pietro ran his fingers over the pendants as if they would break. He wasn't sure what they meant. As his hand traced over Rogue's heart he noticed the other indentation. There was a third heart! Pietro suddenly felt dizzy. All the questions swirled in his mind, and he felt he would soon be sick. His stomach churned. His heart ached. He could barely breathe. 'I know. I'll talk to Rogue. She has to have some answers!' And with the thought, and both pendants clasped tightly in one hand, he took off to find the one person who might know why.

Rogue lay motionless on a bed in the infirmary. The only sounds heard were the soft humming and beeping of various machines. Professor Xavier's wheelchair was by Rogue's bedside. He had never been more concerned about one of his young charges before. Everything that happened concerning them usually had very straightforward causes and effects. Rogue's illness however, had baffled him from the start. Hank McCoy was pacing the room, a composite of his data on Rogue in his hands. Nothing made any sense. Just as before, there was no medical evidence suggesting that there was anything wrong with Rogue to begin with. In fact, if one didn't know what to look for, Rogue would come across as completely normal, completely human. 'But she isn't normal, isn't completely human.' Being a mutant complicated the whole medical process and guidelines to standard medical procedures. He sighed at a loss.

Logan watched Hank's uncertainty carefully. Ever diligent, he had refused to leave, and was currently leaning against the wall. His patience however, was growing thin. If someone didn't offer him an explanation soon, he'd end up trashin the place. He gave a disisive snort. Hank and the Professor looked up at him. Hank sighed again, already knowing Wolverine too well. He mentally chuckled. 'At least he's easy to figure out.' "As far as I can tell there is nothing wrong with Rogue. Physically." "That's what ya said the last time, bub," Logan growled. "Please Logan, may I finish?" At Logan's snort, Hank continued. "However, I do believe this may all be the effects of Rogue's surfacing memories. I have told you my theory, and suffice it to say, I believe I was correct." "And right you may be Hank," added the Professor, "Rogue's mind is in a complete state of panic." "Yes. I believe this is a self-induced coma." "Self-induced? Coma?" Logan didn't like what he was hearing. His jaw tightened. "Ya mean she's doin' all this 't herself?!" "I assure you my friend, it is quite common," Hank replied. Logan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "So what now?" he asked. "I believe we leave the healing to Charles. He is the only one capable of such intense healing." "So yer gonna fuck with her head again?" Xavier sighed. "Don't worry Logan. I am merely going to go inside her mind and see what I can access. We need to learn more on Rogue's condition, in order to properly treat her." Logan growled deeply. "Whatever. Just don't mess her up. We don't need a vegetable for a student." "Indeed," the Professor replied. "If equal affection can not be, Let the more loving one be me." Logan rolled his eyes.

A/N: The quote is from "The More Loving One" by W.H. Auden. Special thanks to Subtalk for that one.