Hi! : ) Hope you enjoyed the last one. Well, this idea's probably been done to death on here, but hey.

Warnings: Out of characterness. Men kissing men.

Disclaimer: Same as always.

"Logan?" Scott's worried voice cut through the night like a razor, bringing me out of my sleepy daze and into the present. I looked around groggily, for any signs of danger.

I found none. Weird.

I looked to Scott, heart still pounding, and saw him sitting up, head in hands, fingers grasping beautiful chestnut hair, motionless, apart from the unsteady rise and fall of his breath.

My 'danger, danger, Scott's hurt' alarms were firing off like crazy now, and I sat up, shaking off all the sleep that still clung to me. I put a gentle hand on Scott's bare back. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"I had a nightmare," Scott mumbled, leaning into me easily, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around him.

"What was it about?" I asked gently. Scott didn't have them that often, but when he did, they were bad.

"It was when they took me away," He spoke into the crook of my neck. My heart seemed to bleed when I heard the pain in his beautiful voice.

Scott's nightmares always revolved around his childhood – if you could call it that. 'Childhood' implies ice cream trucks, hop scotch and corner sweet shops, not getting abducted and experimented on. Scott never really talked about those days – whether he couldn't remember them, or he just didn't like to bring them up, I didn't know. In all the time we've been together, I have never pushed him. Don't get me wrong: I pushed and prodded him about a million other things, but I knew where that line was.

"I was in Chemistry, and they came into my school, and no one knew what was going on... I thought I was being arrested, but I didn't know what for."

"I can't imagine you ever committing a crime, Slim," I tried to chuckle, knowing that I needed to be upbeat, when what I really felt like doing was crying, crying for Scott.

"There was a cage," Scott said quietly, his voice like stone, "Or a prison cell – I couldn't see, but I felt the bars. They'd wrapped bandages..." He cut himself off sharply, and I could feel him control his breathing, willing himself not to cry. "And after that I had to wear the glasses."

Crap. I didn't know that.

His dreams, or the snippets he'd revealed to me, had never been this in detail. I didn't think they were dreams, they were memories, resurfacing in his subconscious. I wished I could take them away from him – no one should have to deal with this sadness.

He pulled away from me sharply, looking into my eyes, shielded only by the ruby barrier that always separated us.

"What is it?"

"I think I remember you," Scott said quietly.

"What?"

Huge chunks, gaping holes, of my life, I'd accepted that they were lost forever, and I'd made a new life here at the school with Scott, away from that. But the fact that I must have had a past, a childhood, a life, before that, still burned at me from time to time. But it was hard to feel bitter when I had someone like Scott in my life.

"I remember..." He looked at me, "There was all this noise – there were other mutants in the cells next to me, and they'd all been experimented on, and someone had come in – someone who wasn't a guard. There was a girl... and she had a sister, who was trapped in here," His brow was furrowed in concentration, trying to dig up those repressed memories of the dark days, "And she was here with a man, who ran along the corridor, and suddenly all the locks were broken and the... sister, she helped me out. The girl," Scott paused, running an agitated hand through his gorgeous hair, "She yelled out 'Logan'."

I paused, trying to take this in.

"I know it was you," Scott said, after a while. "I can remember the man's smell, and the sounds he made as he moved – they're all yours." He wasn't scared or upset anymore, just stunned. As was I, trying to take in this new information.

"How old were you?"

"Seventeen, just."

I had been in the prison that Scott had been held captive and experimented on – If I'd known, I would have held onto the then teenage Scott, and would have never let him go. I would also go find the sadists who tortured him. Damn, I'd been there, I could have –

"You saved me," A smile formed on Scott's lips.

"I..." I stammered, still trying to take this in.

"I would probably still be there now, if it weren't for you," Scott leaned into me again, our lips now only a breath away from each other's. "You saved me," He repeated.

I couldn't stop my arms from wrapping around him, pulling him closer in a tight embrace, wanting no space to ever be between us. I'd been in Scott's past, we'd met before.

"I wish.." I started, unable to finish as I felt my throat close up with emotion.

"You wish?" Scott asked gently, fingers drawing light and soothing circles on my back.

"I wish I could remember," I said gruffly.

I'd never said this before. I'd never really talked about those lost years with anyone before.

"I don't even remember the girl I was with, or her sister we were trying to save. It must have been important... I wish I could remember... Most of all, I wish I could remember you, Scott," I whispered.

We stayed like that for a very long time, before I slowly lifted my head, and kissed him lightly.

The important thing was, that I was here now. It didn't really matter about my past, or the fact that I'd been there before, all that mattered to me was Scott – here, now. In the present, and the future.

"So... I guess you kind of owe me now," Logan said, his voice gravelly and dripping with pure sex. He was sitting on our bed, looking up at me lazily while I bustled around, trying to get ready for my first lesson.

"And what's the logic behind that conclusion then?" I asked playfully, doing up my shirt buttons then rolling up the sleeves.

"I saved your seventeen year old butt," Logan grinned, "You owe me. Big time."

"Hmm, how will I ever repay you?" I asked, laughing and picking up a few test papers from the desk which I'd marked last night and stuffing them in my bag.

"I can think of a few ways," He grinned his puppy dog grin up at me.

"Logan," Crap, was I blushing? "I'm already going to be late."

"I know. But half your students are always late anyway, and the other half would love an extra half an hour to chat and avoid maths..." He knelt up, so he was just about level with me. In only boxer briefs, this idea was more than tempting. He wrapped his arms protectively around my waist and hips.

"Later," I promised him. "And hey, you need to get a move on too! You're not even dressed yet!"

"I don't want to go," He whined, suddenly pulling away from me and falling back on the bed, "This new class is annoying, Slim." He sounded like a five year old. I couldn't help but smile – I know I shouldn't encourage him, but if he wasn't the most adorable thing I've seen, then I don't know what is.

"Really?" I said indulgently, already missing his arms around me, "How so?"

"They don't know anything!"

"You're a teacher. You teach. They learn."

"You're so smart," Logan grinned, going into sex-mode once more and pulling me down onto the bed with him. I went gladly, an eye on the clock, which told me I had ten minutes before I was in the late territory.

I kissed him.

Eventually, I had to pull away. "Come on," I grinned at him, "Get dressed."

"Seriously?" He said, indignant; cheeks flushed, hair tousled, "You're going to kiss me like that, then expect me to teach a bunch of whiney first years?"

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Lotsa love x