Tamazi: Cliffhangers are my thing! Lol. And the reason Bobby is acting oddly is because he's not completely comfortable with the relationship Logan and Rogue share (that's how I interpreted him in the second film anyway, so basically, it's jealousy.) Yep, Charles for once is in the dark as much as the others are. It's time to worry when the Professor can't help.

Runts Gal: Hello new reader:D Great to see you. Hope you are enjoying the story so far! As you can see, I have updated.

Fanfiction Fanatic: Thanks for reviewing! Hehe, yes, I'm a review-eating machine. Rawr.

Blix: I always thought they had a bond together, and I thought it was time to put it into practise, since I have neglected it in my other stories. Hope your meditating went well! Hehe.

Chapter 7

The door of the Professor's office opened with a quiet creak as somebody entered that morning. Soft footsteps passed slowly over the dark navy carpet that was bathed in the morning sunlight that spilled warmly through the tall glass windows of the office. The person who had just entered was Scott Summers, leader of the X-Men. It seemed that the man had been helped greatly by Storm's sleeping medicinal, because there was a notified sleepiness that was absent from him. It also seemed that his mood had improved too, thought the tight stretch of a weak smile was all that he could manage.

Charles Xavier on the other hand did look worst for wear for once. The usual bright sparkle in his eyes had dimmed and under his eyes looked dark from what must have been lack of sleep. Everybody knew he was suffering after William Stryker, and there were side effects from the Neural Inhibitor, it included in making his brain unstable at the worst of times. Last night his brain had been over-stimulated and was too active when he wanted to sleep. There was no chance of him to settle into a deep active sleep, his brain never slowed down before it could start up for deep sleep. When Scott entered, Charles raised his head to glance over to the man, and he politely gave a greeting aided by a friendly smile, "Good morning Scott."

"Morning," replied Scott with a nod of his head, "I got the message about the meeting."

"Good," replied Charles quietly, "as you can see, you are the first here, we are not scheduled to start for another five minutes."

"I arrived fashionably early," declared Scott with a small smile catching his lips as he shared a glance to the Professor before he walked over to the prepared coffee jug, "Would you like me to pour you a drink Professor?" Scott then enquired kindly.

Charles shook his head gently, raising a hand to the offer, "No, thank you," he said quietly.

Just then, the door creaked quietly to signal another entry, and in walked Storm, looking increasingly worried about something. It couldn't have been Nightcrawler, who at that moment vaporised into view in the corner safely, staring around the room with his bright eyes. Charles and Scott instantly raised their eyes upon Storm's entry, both expressing welcoming smiles which both shared the same falter at her apprehensive expression, "Professor, she insisted," said Storm very quickly in an apologetic voice.

Within the next few seconds, Rogue can carefully stepped around Storm's body in the doorway and walked over the room towards Charles with a relatively calm expression on her face. Scott and Storm shared a glance before everybody looked upon Rogue.

Charles bowed his head gently with a quiet sigh, "You can stay Rogue. You are entitled to know, in this case."

Scott seemed to bristle slightly as he folded his arms, sharing a dark look with Storm, he becoming curious as to what Charles was going to say. But before Charles could say anything else. Rogue had butted in front with a panicky voice, "Professor, is it Logan? I can't find Logan, he isn't around the mansion, is it about Logan?"

Charles looked up slowly to watch the girl's worried eyes stare across at him. When he nodded his head once she span away with a frightened cry, white streaks spinning wildly against her dark hair.

"What is it, Professor?" asked Storm quickly, taking long strides to his desk, "What's happened to Logan?" she continued determinedly. A small circle enclosed around the desk of Charles', each mutant bearing different expressions.

However, Charles just shook his head quietly, "Please, Rogue, Storm, it is nothing to get too worried about I'm sure, Logan in the past – "

"Has often took off without letting anyone know," interrupted Scott with a fixed frown over his brow.

".. has had the tendency to temporarily depart for his own reasons," continued Charles, phrasing the meaning a lot more better than Scott did, "He shall be back in his own time, I'm sure."

Rogue turned back to the desk, the fear evident in her eyes, she did truthfully care for the Wolverine, he was an extremely close friend of hers, "He has been gone since last night Professor.."

"Actually, he left yesterday morning," said Scott quietly. He frowned all the more when he saw Rogue's eyes shoot open him fearfully, "Rogue, listen, he will be fine."

"Then why do I feel so worried?" cried Rogue, "Look at me! This isn't just coincidence, even the Professor told me that he – "

"Rogue, calm down," said the Professor quietly, "You know my mind is not fully well, I am not completely sure of how I feel right now."

Kurt lifted his head gently, casting Rogue a calm-mannered gaze, "Don't worry Miss. Rogue," he said softly, "I'm sure your friend will be well."

"He'll be fine," said Scott soon after Kurt, "He's just in need of a break, he'll be back when he is ready, right?" he looked upon Charles with a slanted brow.

With a quiet sigh, Charles nodded his head in response.

"Very well," sighed Scott, "I've got a English lesson to prepare, Storm, could you do Logan's self defence lessons?"

"I can," she answered softly, turning her eyes upon the others, "He'll probably give you a ring tonight Rogue, he'll let you know he is safe."

Rogue turned her head slowly to watch the three X-Men walk out of the room quietly with apologies of department and farewells, and all she managed to say was a quiet, "I hope so," before the door was shut softly. And as soon as that door was shut, she span her head viciously to the Professor, "Tell me you aren't going to listen to them," she begged, "You know it's true. You were worried last night. Something has happened to him!"

Charles watched the young woman opposite him sadly, glancing his tired eyes down at the leather-writing surface of his desk, "I admit my worries still haven't ceased from the night before, but it would be irrational to suddenly pin them on Logan." Charles slowly raised his eyes back upon Rogue, "Logan can take care of himself."

"He can't," said Rogue desperately, "He needs us, he needs our help!"

"He's survived fifteen years without us," informed Charles sombrely.

A faint snarl breathed from Rogue as she clenched her gloved fists, holding her head in her hands, "We need to find out, see where he is. Professor, please, can't you go to – "

"Cerebro?" enquired the Professor, "I tried earlier this morning, since my doubts were worrying my mind, but I could not access its powers stably. It told me nothing."

Rogue shook her head sadly, a hand rubbing her forehead slowly, "This is hopeless," she muttered softly.

She glanced up when Charles gently touched the material of her lower arm, "Please don't worry Rogue, I promise you, I will keep trying, I will listen out with all my strength for Logan and shall keep trying Cerebro, but you must give me time. My mind is still weak."

"I know," moaned Rogue quietly under her breath, "I know, it's not your fault, it's that damn William Stryker, if he hadn't have messed with your head we would know fully what was wrong."

"Yes," responded Charles regretfully, "But what's done cannot be undone.." he glanced idly over to the opposite wall of his room before his eyes happened open his clock and he looked slowly to Rogue, "Your English lesson has begun," he murmured quietly, "You wouldn't want Cyclops to be throwing detentions so early in the morning."

The pair shared a faint smile at the words before Rogue gently rose to her feet, "Will you keep me updated?" she asked softly as she began to turn away.

"By every second," promised the Professor with a genuine smile to the girl, "Try and have a good morning, my dear."

"Yes Professor," replied Rogue softly as she slipped out of the door with a bowed head, heading in the direction to Scott's classroom. Meanwhile, Charles was left staring out of his office window, the same worry creasing the lines on his face and making his sky blue eyes cloud over like a rain filled heaven.

"So let me get this straight," said Jubilee simply as she leant on her desk, one arm over her English papers with the hand supporting her black haired head she idly popped a bright pink bubble gum in Rogue's direction in the pause, "Wolvie has been gone since yesterday morning?"

Rogue looked up slowly from her work, her pen pausing it it's flow, "Yeah," she confirmed under her breath as Scott talked over them at the front of the class.

"Aren't you overacting?" asked Jubilee, raising a slim brow in Rogue's direction, "Like you said, Storm nor Nightcrawler are panicking, and come on, even Cyclops is calm, and he's normally throwing a fit over anything. Remember that time when I forgot my book report?"

"Forgot it for the 14th time, yeah," said Rogue, giving her friend a sly smirk.

But Jubilee shook her head blithely as if she hadn't heard Rogue's extended detail, "Whatever," she dismissed before quickly continuing, "my point is, Summers over there is as cool as a cucumber. Normally he's sprinting around in a frenzy if he so much as gets a whiff of trouble."

"Now, I think you're overreacting," said Rogue calmly as she looked down to her work, going over the last word she wrote with her pen, "You didn't see him at Liberty Island, Scott's always in control."

"No, but I saw him at Alkali Lake," countered Jubilee suddenly.

"Jean died!" hissed Rogue quietly, flashing a glare to Jubilee, "Don't you think you'd be a bit panicky if your fiancé drowned?"

But Jubilee changed tack at the speed of light, "What about in the self defence lessons? He completely lost it in last Wednesday's lesson, remember?"

"That was because Logan was trying to show students how to get out of a strangle hold. Artie was going blue in the face until Scott made Logan let go of him."

If Jubilee was about to come up with some sharp witted reply, she didn't get chance, because Scott's voice rang loudly across the room and reverberated around them, "Want to share your conversation with the class, girls?"

Jubilee was all too happy to, "Well you see Mr. Summers, Rogue and I are discussing about how – "

She stopped when she found a gloved hand jammed under her nostrils, "It's nothing, sir, sorry," quickly said Rogue, who received a warning glare which was slowly sent to Jubilee before Scott turned and continued with the class.

Rogue and Jubilee shared a mild mannered glare with each other before they calmly settled down to their work.

The darkness was replaced by bright light. The darkness returned. The light returned. A few more sleepy blinks were performed before the eyes were opened fully as they took in the surroundings. The room was small and strictly square. Lights blared from the ceiling, narrow strips of shocking white light blistering down to make his eyes sparkle with white dots of fuzziness. There were no windows in this room; only one lone metal door stood in the far corner, with a small slot in the top, enough to look in and out of. With a pained grunt, the Wolverine tried to stand up off the hard floor, he could feel his entire body aching as his muscles felt too relaxed after their lack of movement. But a flood of surprise overtook him as he felt his hands bound behind his back.

"Typical," grunted Logan hoarsely; he had been trying to grab the wall for support. Instead, his forced his legs underneath him, knees wobbling gently as he forced himself upright, using the pure muscle of his calves and thighs to drive his heavy weight upward whilst he back leant against the wall. As he reached his feet, which he found to be bare, he stumbled a little, as if his legs hadn't been expecting the body weight upon them. His legs felt weak; the joints still shook under his ripped jeans like he was overcoming flu. His eyes felt oddly heavy under the startling lights, and he still blinked them, trying to focus them to he could see clearly.

He stumbled towards the metal door that sat positioned a few short steps away from his position. The room was smaller than it had looked from the floor, and Logan was surprised how it took him such little time to reach this door, even with his slow and unbalanced footsteps as he sluggishly travelled. The drugs were wearing off, but they were still affecting him. When he came open the door, he lowered his head slightly to peer out of the rectangular slit, like that in the door of a police cell.

There was nothing interesting through the hole, beyond was a small brightly lit but grey walled corridor of sorts with a wooden table and chair positioned by the wall. He saw a polystyrene coffee cup sat upon the table, and a folded up newspaper. The coffee remains were cold, he could feel their sickly bitter stench wafting into his nostrils, smelling so unlike the fresh aroma of grounded coffee he was used to sniffing when he walked into the mansion's kitchens in the mornings. However, his whirling and rather dazed thoughts spun to an undignified halt, as he was surprised to see a head suddenly come into view, and a pair of blue eyes fitted into the small space that he was looking through. The sudden appearance had been so unexpected he staggered back a little, face visibly relaxed in a startled expression.

However, as soon as he had got over the arrival his jaw hardened and he swooped back down to the slot, wobbling a little and he growled, "Where the hell am I?"

The pair of bright eyes blinked once before a voice came from unseen lips, "Don't worry, Wolverine," came the female British accent, "You won't be staying in there for long."

"Don't worry?" Logan quickly retorted with a growl, "I get dragged here by a couple of Government loonies and I shouldn't worry?"

Although he couldn't see the woman's lips, he was sure she just smirked, it was the way her eyes twinkled, "Just get yourself comfortable and we shall be coming for you shortly."

"I can't," said Logan dryly, "It was somebody's bright idea to handcuff me."

He heard a small chuckle escape the woman's throat, "That would be my idea, we don't want you hurting people with those nasty claws of yours."

Logan rolled his eyes slightly as he turned to glare away from the woman, he didn't like the calm knowledge she held about him, "Look, why am I here? Don't you people have anything better to do with your time, rather than waste it?"

"Mr. Drayson has worked most of his life for this, Wolverine," said Lorna in a playfully scolding tone, "It's not a waste of time to him."

"Whatever," said Logan dismissively, "So, are you going to tell me what you are planning on doing whilst I spend my vacation here, what's the entertainment?"

She smirked again, "As amusing as you are to talk to, I'm going to leave now. You will find out everything you need to know tomorrow."

"Oh, so I gotta sleep in this dump?" muttered Logan with a growl, "Sorry, lady, don't reckon much to the facilities here."

"Goodnight Wolverine," she called as she turned away from the door, and before Logan realised what was happening, she had turned off the lights, and a sudden blackness was thrown around him. He heard the heels of her shoes fade away in the distant corridors, until he could no longer recognise any evidence of surrounding life. He made a quiet sigh, shifting away from the door to shuffle limply across the hard floor.

He dropped back to the floor where he was before, landing rather heavily on his knees as he fell. He ignored the shooting pains running through his thighs, he could handle that. Once he was sat, he began to search with his fingers, feeling the cold cuffs sit on his wrists, and also, surprisingly, a metal sheet over his knuckles. Instantly he realised it must be adamantium. It had to be. They knew about his claws, and apparently about his past.

There was no doubt about it, these people were prepared.

Damn, and he had wanted to go and rip down the door and stroll out. Looked like that plan had been foiled. And now, it appeared that getting out of here wasn't going to be so straightforward, that's why he had been so calm, he thought he'd be out in the next half an hour. But now, with the possibility of lengthy imprisonment, he felt the sickening shiver of fear curl up tightly in his stomach.

He wasn't so calm anymore, he was only just seeing how much danger he could be in..

Yay, I have updated!