A/N: Thank you so much to Arkham House for reviewing! I'm terribly sorry for the delay, but hopefully I can post the next few chapters (if not all!) by today. Read on!

Chapter Three: Routine

I woke to a soft pang in the back of my head. My back ached and I groaned at the bright light that filtered through the blinds. The walls were a soft blue, the mattress a bit softer than I would have preferred.

No bombs. No screams. Absolute silence.

I shot up despite my back's protests, glancing around. The heart monitor clip was taped to my finger, my green hair pulled back into a basic ponytail.

I slowed my breathing down as I remembered my unfortunate stay in Muir Island. I sighed, pulling my knees to my chest. My life couldn't get much better, and the few voices that remained in my head didn't help much.

"Mornin' Lorna." The nurse- Judy, I think -came in, the standard tray in her hand. "How are ya?"

I shook my head. "No better than yesterday."

"Had anymore of those nightmares ya told Moira 'bout?" She asked, setting the tray down on the nightstand beside my bed.

"Every night." I sighed, glancing over at the tray. "Do I have to?"

"D' ya wanna go home?"

Three little paper cups, filled with a few pills each. So much damn medication...who the hell was paying for the bills when I get out of here?

"I'm not really depressed." I muttered. "I just act like it."

"You only act like it because you are." She said, gesturing for me to take the medicine.

I sighed, grasping the water bottle beside my bed and uncapped it. I took the medicine like a good patient I was and almost drowned in water.

The nurse smiled, taking the tray up again. "Good. Now clean up, I'll be back in a little while to bring you to your morning appointment."

The minute she closed the door I flopped back on the bed, groaning. Look at me; an X-Man, sitting in a nut house taking medications and waiting to be brought to an appointment. Pathetic.

When Janet-or-whatever-the-hell-her-name-is said clean up, she didn't mean take a shower. There wasn't a shower here, in case I let another personality take over and drown myself, but they trusted me with my own toilet and sink; not a towel or a paper towel dispenser, just in case I decided to smuggle myself. Funny, huh? Was it even possible to smuggle yourself?

I washed my face and rolled on a layer of deodorant before shimmying out of my pajamas. Since I was still feeling a bit tired, I pulled on another pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt. I pulled the tie out of my hair and slid it onto my wrist, letting my hair fall around my upper arms.

Julie came back to escort me into the west wing of the massive facility, where all of the appointments were held. She let me into the same large library my sessions were always held in and closed the door behind me; I could hear the lock in the door twist shut.

"Good mornin'" Doctor Moira McTaggart greeted, gesturing for me to sit in the large leather seat across from her.

I did, trying not to slide on the slippery material. "Hi." I replied halfheartedly.

Her smile dimmed a little but never went away. "How are ya feelin' this mornin'?"

"I dunno. I just got up."

"Nightmares?"

"All the time."

She stared at me and I at her for several minutes.

"Today, I want ta work on gettin' a few more of those...voices out." She said, pulling her glasses down over her eyes. "Which one bothers ya the most?"

"All of them." I let my elbow sit on the arm rest and my head in my hand.

"C'mon, dearie. You've got to work with me here, I'm tryin' to help ya." She begged, clasping her hands over her knee.

I sighed, leaning back. "Fine. There's this one that won't shut up about her son."

Moira smiled slightly. "Do you recall her name?"

"No." I said, looking away. "I didn't know any of them."

"Did you take all of your medicine today?"

"Yeah."

I want my son, The voice rasped, making me hiss.

"Just behave and I'll be happy to have you out." I replied, rubbing my head.

"Impressive." Moira commented. "You continue ta have conversations with them?"

"You betcha." I replied. "Quite annoying."

"Alright, just relax your mind." She said, putting her glasses on top of her head again.

"Hard to do that when I have an entire populace inside of here." I muttered, tapping my temple.

She gave me a type of glare, making me sigh again.

"Fine, fine. Considered it relaxed."

"Listen to my voice only." She soothed. "Close your eyes."

"You're the only one talking." I said softly, closing my eyes.

She chose to ignore me. "How many mutants lived on Genosha?"

"One-million-six-hundred-thousand." I said carefully. "How is this helping?"

"You don't sound relaxed..."

I hissed, shutting my eyes.

"How many did you know personally?"

"None." I answered. "Just my family and several of the guards and Acolytes."

"Did you ever leave the palace?"

"Yeah, tons of times. Just to have a night to myself or to watch the productions the other mutants put on."

"Did you know any women with children?"

I swallowed. "No. I saw many women with children."

"Did you know any children?"

"No."

"How did you end up in the hidden hatch?" Moira asked. I could tell she was reading from whatever information Scott had given her.

"My father pushed me; he was trying to stop me from following him."

"Following him where?"

"He..." I trailed off, feeling a new wave of guilt hit me. "He said he was going to stop the Sentinels from destroying his dreams. I was going after him, but he pushed me down the hatch just as a Sentinel grabbed him."

"Did you try to get back up?"

I shook my head, feeling the tears welling in my eyes. "The long drop knocked me unconscious. When I fully woke, I was here."

By the sounds of it, she was writing down notes on my little story.

"Now, I'd like you to force that voice out, along with any others that occasionally cause a ruckus."

"How exactly do you expect me to just...force something out?" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

I want my son, The voice repeated.

"Oh my god, will you just shut up for one second?!" I snapped, squeezing my eyes shut even tighter.

"Force her out!" Moira said more forcefully. "Push her, tell her you have no business in your mind!"

At the sudden burst of anger, I imagined myself shoving the voice as hard as I could, pushing her out of my mind.

Aside from the residual chitchat of the other residents in my head, I was pleased to find nobody complaining about their son. I couldn't blame her, though; if I had a child, I would never want to be separated from it. I just wish she hadn't been repeating it in my ear all day long.

"Get rid of another one." Moira ordered, her voice stiff still.

I looked, picking one out and shoving him out as well; the more I practiced, the easier it got. Voice after voice after voice, gone within my three hour training session. I went from about 80 voices to 50, making my head even quieter, my thoughts almost my own again.

"Good job, Lorna." Moira praised, smiling. "We'll continue again this evenin' if ya like."

I shrugged. "It depends on how I feel later."

"Alright. Tell me whatever you prefer."

I nodded, standing. "Thanks."

She smiled; just in time, Jane came in to escort me back to my room.

"I'll come in and check on ya later." She said, opening my door.

"Alright. If I'm sleeping, don't bother waking me. You can leave the tray on the nightstand again." Despite my victories, the effort of purging myself of the presences exhausted me; and I had just woken up, too.

She smiled warmly. "Of course." She said, closing the door behind her.

I trudged over to my bed, curling up on the marshmallow-like mattress.

I only imagined myself back in my bed, strong arms wrapped around my body, the same strong arms I knew I wouldn't feel again. Still, it was nice to dream of them while I could.