Author's Note: Alright, I didn't really understand the one review I got. Sorry O.o Although I saw you were confused. Yeah, the first chapter seems to confuse some people. Hope this clears it up! I must admit, I'm terrible with accents unless they're mine own (living in Louisiana, it's about the only accent I'm good at). So do excuse me!
Chapter Two
Logan was drenched in sweat. He looked and saw that he was on the floor. Fluff and pieces of mattress were everywhere, namely in his hair. He brushed some off his sweaty shoulder. He looked around and pinched himself. He was still there. He let out a huge sigh and closed his eyes. He opened them back up again and saw that the floor around him had deep gashes in it. He rubbed the last of the dull pain out of his knuckles. He sighed again and then got up rather stiffly. He realized he had done a number on his own self as well during the double dreams, but his healing factor was taking care of that. He looked for his clothes and headed to the shower. Burning hot water shot out at him, but he liked it that way. He stood there and let the hot water beat down on him as he thought about his dreams. She had been in one of them again.
It had been six months since he and the other X-Men (including Professor Xavier) escaped the Alkali Lake Industrial Complex. Six months since William Stryker's death. He could have been the only man that had answers to all of Logan's questions about his past. But it was all gone now. No one could have survived the dam spill. And speaking of dam spills, it had also been six months since Jean Grey's heroic death as well.
Logan beat himself up inside when he thought about how he could have done something that might have saved her. Apparently, she was thinking the same thing down in her watery grave. She hadn't stopped haunting his dreams for a while now. He could only imagine what Scott's dreams were filled with. He got out of the shower with her still on his mind. He sensed it was 3:30 AM. He dried off and put his clothes on, deciding to head down to the kitchen. Thankfully, he was the only one there at this time of night.
When he was on his fourth Dr. Pepper, it was 4:15. He got up, carrying the other three empty bottles and threw them away. He picked up his fourth one and left the kitchen, going the opposite direction of his room.
Outside the stars were shining brightly. The half-moon was up in the night sky, watching the world as most of its population slept. Logan quietly opened one of the double doors of the X-Mansion and stepped into the night air. He gazed up at the night sky and leaned back on the door, closing it with a snap and sighed again.
I gotta do somethin' 'bout those dreams . . . he thought.
Somethin' . . .
Rogue woke with a bolt. She was in the kitchen. She looked at the clock on the wall. 7:30 AM. She looked around and saw the half drunken water bottle by her arm. She remembered coming down here around 4:30 because she hadn't been able to sleep. Bobby Drake was getting some orange juice from the refrigerator. She yawned as he poured himself a glass.
'Morning sunshine,' he said as he saw she was up.
'I probably look nothin' like it,' she said as she stretched.
'You're beautiful anytime,' he assured her as they both smiled. 'Orange juice?'
'When I come back. I gotta go change,' she said as she ran up to her room.
Ororo Munroe, code name Storm, was on her way to the entrance for some fresh air. As she opened the door and the sun shone down on her shocking white hair and dark skin, she was surprised to find someone lying on the other door with his back against it.
'Logan?' she called softly to him. The slow rise and fall of his chest told her he was sound asleep. One hand was on his stomach, holding the half finished Dr. Pepper; the other rested on the ground.
She bent down next to him. 'Logan?' she repeated, this time accompanying her call with a touch to Logan's shoulder that carried with it just the gentlest shock of electricity.
'Uh!' Logan gasped as he jumped. At the same moment, the hand holding the Dr. Pepper sprouted three metal claws with a snikt! He was on his feet at an amazing speed.
'I did not mean to startle you,' Storm said. She had jumped all the way back into the Mansion.
'Well, that's what I get fer lettin' my guard down.' With a snakt the claws went back to their housing.
'You look tired. Everything okay?' Storm asked.
'Is anythin' ever? Where would Charley be 'bout this time?'
'Probably in his office getting ready for a class.'
'Thanks darlin'.'
Storm let Logan in and then went outside herself.
With the forgotten bottle still in his hand, Logan headed for Charles Xavier's office. He knocked on the door twice.
Come in Logan, a rich English voice said inside his head.
Logan opened the door. Xavier was behind his desk in his wheelchair. Ever since Logan had first arrived, he had been in that wheelchair. Logan had never known why he was confined to it. He didn't ask and Xavier never told. Nonetheless, Xavier was in a nice crisp suit, as usual.
'Good morning, Logan. Something bothering you?'
'Why don't you tell me?'
'I've told you countless times before. I don't pry into other people's minds whenever I feel like it,' Charles said as he wheeled his wheelchair closer to Logan.
'I've bin havin' dreams,' Logan admitted.
'All kinds of people have dreams.'
'Not all kinds o' people dream 'bout themselves bein' ripped opened with steel bein' put into 'em! I doubt anyone would, but at least it's all jus' a dream fer those few weirdos that do. It never really happened to 'em! An' it's not jus' that that's hauntin' me . . .' Logan drifted off.
Charles studied him as he shifted the Dr. Pepper bottle back and forth and knew what was haunting him without even reading his mind.
'We've all been drastically hit by Jean's death, you know that Logan. Some more than others, I'm afraid. What do you purpose I do?'
Logan sighed. 'I want ya t'read my mind.'
'We've been through this before. It's not all that easy. The mind is fragile thing. Do you really think that there would be something different than before?'
'There might be. We had a deal though. Jus' like before. You promised we would talk.'
'And so we have,' Charles said as Logan shook his head in disagreement. 'There are some things you need to find out on your own.'
'That day I first came here, you said you would help me. I need ya t'help me!'
There was a pleading tone in Logan's voice that Charles never knew he possessed. He looked at him closely. Logan felt like he was being x-rayed.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Logan growled in annoyance.
Kurt Wagner, code name Nightcrawler, came in. Unlike many mutants that could hide their powers and what they truly were, Kurt was not one of them unless he had an image inducer. He wore a regular t-shirt and blue jeans, but under his clothes was skin that was blue-black. He had thick, curly indigo hair, gleaming yellow eyes, sharp white teeth and a long blue tail that ended in a pointy spade shape to top it all off.
'Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but ve have some nev arrivals,' Kurt said in his thick German accent.
'Arrivals?' Logan questioned.
'Vell, I should say old arrivals. Some of the children are back. There are some nev ones as vell,' Kurt explained.
'Tell them I will be done shortly,' Charles said.
'Yes, sir.' And with that, Kurt disappeared with a BAMF.
'So now what?' Logan asked, not even trying to hide the anger in his voice.
'I will go down and see them. You can go and try to repair your room as much as you can.'
'I don't need t'clean. I need answers.'
'And we will see to that at another time,' Charles said.
Logan looked as if he was about to argue otherwise.
'How about you meet me here tomorrow at noon? Does that sound all right?'
'Yeah,' Logan muttered as he turned to leave. Charles followed him out and pressed a button on his wheelchair, making the door close behind him with a snap. Charles went one way and Logan another.
