The little boy was about five years old. He was sitting in his bedroom on the end of the bed. "Star Wars" and "Transformers" posters hung on the wall. Toys were abandoned on the floor. He had been sent to his room for embarrassing his parents in front of company. At the fancy dinner party that night, he had said a word he had heard on a TV show that day. He knew it was a bad word to use and wanted to see how people would react. His father had marched him upstairs in an instant and told him to wait in that exact spot until company had gone. He had. Now his door opened, and his father marched in. He had taken off his belt and was holding it in his hand. His hand reached to the boys shoulder and he jerked him into a standing position. Suddenly, the belt flew and the boy screamed when it made contact. "How dare you embarrass us in front of important people," his father screamed as the belt made contact again.
Once again, Logan sat upright in bed. This time tears were streaming down his face. He quickly glanced at Veronica. She was still asleep. He slipped out of bed, grabbing his robe, and headed downstairs. The clock on the microwave read 6:04. It wasn't much longer until he would need to wake up anyway. Logan turned on the coffee pot and sat down at the counter, head in hands.
This dream had been different. He remembered the day from his past. It was a significant one. That had been the first time his father had beaten him. Before then, he had received a few spankings but nothing like that day or what was to come. Unlike the dreams of the past week, this one had not been an exact replication of the events from his childhood. The difference had confirmed for Logan his suspicions of why these dreams seemed to be haunting him.
He heard Veronica stirring upstairs and knew she would be coming to find him soon. It was a rare morning they didn't wake up in each other's arms. He couldn't tell her about this one; he didn't want to. How could he tell her that he had seen this moment not from the eyes of the young boy being beaten by his father, but from the eyes of the man whipping his child to a bloody pulp? Suddenly, tears began to stream down his face again. In just a few weeks, he and Veronica would be bringing home their child from the hospital, but it was to what kind of home that would be that Logan was beginning to worry about.
Veronica found Logan sitting at their kitchen counter, his head in his hand, and his body convulsing with sobs. She hadn't seen him cry much in all the time she had known him. When Lilly had died, when he resigned himself to his mother's death, the night Felix had been killed, and a couple of others. He had cried the day she had accepted his marriage proposal two years earlier, but that had been out of joy. She knew there was something he wasn't telling her, but pushing wasn't going to get it out of him. Instead, she simply walked over to him and placed her arms around him pulling his head to her chest. Logan grabbed a hold of her and continued to cry.