Disclaimer: I own only Laura (aka Blaze) and Jessica (aka Raven). Marvel retains all rights to the X-Men. Ilehana Xavier (aka Vixen) belongs to Corrinth.

Chapter Two- Xavier Mansion

I have the strangest dreams these days.

Perhaps it is being pregnant, though I don't remember having strange dreams last time. Then again, the situation today is far removed from that, twelve years ago, when I was forced to go it alone for the sake of my child, my love and my sanity. This time, I am cared for, not just by my husband and our daughter, but also by all the X-Men. It is a lovely sensation, and life is good.

This dream was stranger than most. Perhaps it was triggered by the confusing, emotional news brought back to me by my more battle-ready teammates, Logan and Scott, so recently. The mansion is a tinderbox of dry emotion; the slightest spark could bring the whole place down right now, and why? Because a wolf saved Logan's life.

A wolf slaughtered the enemy of the X-Men with no regard for its own health or safety. A most unwolf-like wolf, a beautiful, haunting creature with the black tips to the ears and tail, blonde highlights across the chest and muzzle......... Not one of the X-Men would struggle to name their friend from that description, but only Logan had broken heart enough to utter the name aloud.

"Ilehana?"

The debate has raged on. She is dead, as she had prophesied she would be and to me no less, and yet......... I have kept my mouth shut, I was not there and so I cannot comment on the power of a moment when all truths fall into doubt. If Ilehana could be alive?

Gambit has almost worn himself out trying to get his practical head around it. Not in front of the others of course, each of us is keeping our councils within our closest circles. There aren't many circles that come as close as Remy's and mine, we have known each other, loved each other, so long. He paces our room as I sit in bed and watch him, arms around myself.

"But she dead, non? That was the deal, the Guardians get their powers but the Vixen had to die........."

"There was no body." I meet his eyes as I speak, knowing what's coming next and wishing I'd kept my mouth shut. Technically, Gambit is not one of the Guardians; he is the Key, the mechanism by which their powers had been released for them.

"I know what I did, Laura. Protective energy or not, no way Ilehana survive me chargin' her wit my mutant power, or bein' so close to that explosion. " He looks away, knowing he'd had little choice at the time. At the time, it had seemed the thing to do. It was only afterwards he'd had difficulty understanding why he'd gotten involved. "Huh, suicide by Gambit........."

"Don't." I warn him. He sighs, but he also gives up and at last comes to bed. It takes him a long time to finally fall asleep, and only when he is dreaming do I follow him there.

I dream of the Professor, of early morning spring sunlight dancing in patterns across his office ceiling, of the smell of the old furniture and the rich carpet. There is a map spread over his desk, and he is looking at it carefully. Suddenly he seems to notice he is not alone, smiling at me and beckoning me forwards. I too look at the map then, marvel at the beauty and the detail of it, like no map I have ever seen. It is almost as though the very countryside leaps out of the paper towards me, every contour of every hill, every wooded copse touched with moss and starlight, every babbling brook right there down to the gossiping noise of water over stones.

For a moment I simply look, enjoying the beauty of the thing. The Professor breaks my gaze with a subtle movement, pointing out an exact spot with an index finger knarled by wisdom more than age. He looks at me so piercingly, so acutely that it is all I can do to look at where he is pointing and not at him. All the time he smiles, as if all is right.

"That's where you'll find her." He says softly, not an order or a request, just a fact. I know his words are for me alone, but I cannot think why.

"Just me? Not the X-Men, not all of us?"

"That's where you'll find her." He repeats, still smiling, still so very certain.

"I don't understand........." My dream self pleads, but already this world is fading and my eyes are drawn back to the map one last time.

"That's where you'll find her." Charles whispers, and instantly I am wide- awake.

My photographic memory works through visual associations. We've tested it, over the years, my friends and I. Phone calls, telepathic communication, and especially dreams I don't remember particularly well. Its fortunate really, my mind is cluttered up with old knowledge enough as it is.

But not this dream of Xavier. As I lay in bed, I could picture the map so completely it was as though I had actually stood there, in that office, for real and committed it to memory. I half wondered if I had. Every contour line, every possible landing site for a jet, the precise reference Xavier had given me.........

I have to go. I have to find this place, where Xavier wanted me to go. I couldn't think of anything else. It was imprinted on me, a command I could not shake. I have to find her.

I lie still, wondering how. Curled up on my side, my head was resting on Gambit's left shoulder. His left arm coiled around me protectively, his wedding band cold on the hand of mine he held. His right hand rests gently on my round belly. And so I lie still, my fingers softly tracing an old scar on his chest. I do not want to wake him, no matter how much my head rattles around Xavier's instructions.

Somehow, eventually, I wiggle free to pull on my dressing gown and steal through the mansion like the thief I used to be. And I was a very good thief. I cannot say why I feel I cannot tell anyone where I am going. It's just not important right now. In the lower levels I dress in our grey X-Men training gear. My uniform doesn't exactly fit at the moment.

I take the Falcon, the three-seater stealth jet designed by Ilehana herself. Scott would have kittens if he knew I was flying his baby. He doesn't trust me with the X-Vehicles as a rule, and okay so I did write off the most expensive car the school has ever owned, but not without very good reason. After all, I adored that Aston Martin......... As for the plane, I'm a much better pilot than my restricted experience would suggest, due again to my memory and watching both Jean and Storm, though not Scott. A photographic memory doesn't stop you picking up bad habits.

It is still dark as I launch the jet, using the stealth mode as I leave the hanger under the basketball court so as not to wake anyone who is not ready to be woken. The flashing lights and monitors, the buzzing equipment is a comfort, the protocols keep my mind numb and my hands busy. I cannot think, I don't dare hope that after all this time, five immensely long years, Ilehana Xavier may yet be alive and waiting for me.........