A/N: This chapter takes a turn for the more angsty/dramatic side. Be warned! ^__^ lol.

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She tilted her head, a strained of her hair falling into her face, "Maybe I shouldn't have showed you these." She whispered tucking the stray piece of hair behind her ear.

 I grabbed for my beer bottle and put it up to my lips finding it empty, I pull it back and glare at it before setting it back down beside me. She's staring at a book in her hands, a look I can't quite place, washes over her face and she breathes slowly out her nose.

 "I don't know, darlin'," I frown picking up the X-men: Evolution comic book again, "Maybe I'll finally find out what's real an' not real in this ol' head o' mine." I tap a finger on my temple and smirk, truth is, this was really starting to scare me.

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 "How're you getting back?" I ask suddenly, not that I want him to go. but it is a question that we should probably look in too soon.

He looks up at me and blinks, "Wanting ta get rid of me, darlin'?" The corner of his lip twitches slightly.

I shake my head, "You know what I mean Logan. I wish you could stay here, really I do but."

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 The phone suddenly rang stopping her in mid sentence. She glanced at the door then back to me.

 "You gonna answer that?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

 The phone rang again.

She smiled and climbed to her feet, "Be right back." She said over her shoulder as she darted into the other room to answer the phone.

 "Hello?" I heard her answer the phone in the other room; I glanced around the room trying not to listen in on the conversation.

A basket of stuffed animals sat in the corner next to a basket of clothes, kid clothes.

 "What?" I heard Ripley gasp in a panicked tone, "No."

 I furrowed my eyebrows and stood up just as she slammed the phone down, hanging up on whoever had just called. There was a muffled sob followed by something hitting the floor with a crash. I walked into the kitchen/living room finding the phone broken in three pieces lying on the kitchen floor. Ripley lowered herself into a chair at the kitchen table; another sob escaping passed her lips.

 "Oh my God." She whispered covering her face with her hands, "Oh my God."

 "Hey, what's going on?" I walk up in front of her.

She looked up at me and flung herself into my arms, crying hard. There's a picture on the wall behind her, a picture of a little boy around the age of five. He's grinning pulling apart a white flower of some sort; I can't believe that I haven't seen this picture before.

 Hesitantly I ran my fingers through her hair, "What happened?" I asked averting my eyes away from the picture.

She took in a deep shuddering breath, "H-he's," She shook her head, "Oh God, I told him to lock up his gun, I told him!"  

 I closed my eyes; I knew where this was going. I could feel the wetness from her tears soaking through my shirt as she strained to take control of her emotions.

 "Sam's dead," She gasped, "My son's dead."

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A/N: Please Review.