When Bobby first opened his eyes, he didn't know where he was. It definitely wasn't his bedroom – the walls were white here, not the rich paneling he was used to – and his first instinct was to get up and try to figure out where this place was, and why he was here. He moved his legs, preparing to swing them over the side of his bed, but a searing pain in his left knee made him stop.

"Welcome back, Bobby," a soft female voice greeted him from the doorway. He craned his neck to see who it was, but intense pain gripped his shoulder as he moved, and he gasped involuntarily.

Storm moved to stand beside the bed, and felt his forehead. He was slightly warm, but she decided that his fever had broken. Bobby gazed up at her, his eyes fearful.

"Where am I?"

"In the Lab downstairs." He moved again, but she placed her hand on his chest to stop him. "Don't try to get up. You're pretty banged up."

"What happened? The last thing I remember is walking in the woods with Rogue."

Storm hesitated to tell him anything, not wanting to upset him. Avoiding his gaze and smoothing the bandage on his right hand, she merely replied, "You were very ill. But you're better now."

"Ill? I've never been sick in my life. It's why my parents suspected I was…different," he said, gazing up at the cold, pale ceiling.

Storm knew how she felt. Her own family had been less than understanding when she discovered her own abilities. They'd had no trouble deciding that she was better off somewhere else, somewhere far away from them.

"Where's Rogue?" Bobby asked then, and she turned her chocolate-brown eyes to his face, inwardly glad to see that it had regained its kind, open features.

"Sleeping. It's still very early in the morning." Then, before he could reply, she added, "As soon as she's awake, I'll bring her down to see you."

"Thanks," he said, giving her a small smile. But soon, the smile turned into a wince.

"What's wrong?"

"My knee. It feels like a truck ran over it."

With a knowing smile, Storm simply asked, "Do you want something for the pain?"

He nodded emphatically. "I'm not usually such a wuss."

"You've been through a lot, Bobby. I'm not sure I'd be as alert as you are right now, if it were me. You're very strong."

Something in her voice made him look at her. He saw the bruise on her face, and a very faint memory formed at the back of his mind. His stomach felt very hollow as he asked, "Did I do that to you?"

Storm took a deep breath before whispering, "Yes."

Bobby's eyes slid closed, and a single tear slipped down his face and disappeared into his auburn hair. Storm's heart ached for him. She could only imagine how he would react when he learned of everything else he'd done. It might change him, she mused sadly; and not for the better.

Storm quietly moved to the other side of the room to prepare some medication for his pain. She wanted to talk to him more, but she knew that it wouldn't help. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, for now.

"Do you hate me?" She heard him ask suddenly, and she turned quickly to look at him.

"No, Bobby! I could never hate you."

"But I –"

"You weren't yourself. It was an accident," she interrupted, stepping back over to his bed. She carefully turned his left arm over, found a vein, and slid the needle into his skin. When she pushed the plunger down, he felt a cooling sensation spread from his arm into the rest of his body, and he suddenly felt very tired.

Storm noticed his eyes becoming heavy, and she gazed softly down at him. "Go to sleep now. I'll stay here with you."

"Storm," Bobby said, barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry."

Tears glistening in her eyes, she whispered back, "It's all right."

Bobby's eyes finally closed, and he fell sleep with a small smile on his lips.

XXXXX

Logan stood in a field full of tall grass and wildflowers, staring at an ancient oak tree. Its twisted branches hung almost to the ground, weighed down by its mass of green, lush leaves. A light-colored patch on its thick trunk caught his eye, and he stepped forward to get a closer look.

A heart was carved into the bark, its outline carefully chipped out and shaped until it was perfectly rounded where it should be. There were names chiseled into the center of the heart, but time had worn them mostly away. All Logan could make out was an L, a plus sign, and a C.

Suddenly, a memory stirred in him, and he spun around to gaze back at the field. He'd been there before, he realized, though he didn't know when or why. He reached down and ran a hand through the waist-high grass, savoring the quiet whisper the blades made when they moved, then raised his face to the sky and watched a few clouds slowly drifting across the pale blue sky. The sun was hot, but to him it felt like nothing more than a warm caress on his stubbled cheek; for some reason, the entire place felt like Peace to him, and he wondered idly if maybe he'd died, if this was Heaven.

"It's not," a voice said from behind him, and he turned around.

"Sonya?" he asked, obviously startled that she should be there, in his dream.

Sonya stepped around the oak tree until she faced the carving. Tracing the heart with her finger, she remarked, "You spent a lot of time on this."

Logan came to stand beside her. "I don't remember this place. It seems a little familiar, but…"

Her brown eyes found his, and though there was a smile on her face, her tone was serious.

"I know. The memories are buried deep inside. You only remember when you're dreaming, and even then, everything is fuzzy and scattered. Like a bunch of old photos."

"So, how'd you get here?"

Her grin widened. "You think that you enjoy being alone, but you really don't. Not deep down, anyway." She wandered over to a patch of white phlox and broke off a few stalks, adding, "I wanted to keep you company."

Her explanation seemed rational, as far as those go in dreams, so he merely shrugged.

"Oh," was all he said. He watched her pick an armful of daisies and sit down on the grass, intending to weave them into a chain.

"You want to help?" She finally asked, holding a small bunch out to him.

"Sure," he nodded, and sat beside her. His fingers, as big as they were, deftly began to braid the flowers into a delicate wreath. After a while, he was startled to realize that he never knew how to do what he was doing, and he told Sonya as much. She didn't even look up as she answered him.

"You did, once, but you forgot. She taught you how."

Logan frowned. "Who? The woman I keep seeing?"

Sonya nodded.

"What's her name, Sonya?"

"I don't know," she replied with a small shrug. "You won't let yourself remember some things. Including her name."

Logan stopped weaving, and she stopped as well. Her hands were tired, anyway. He stared into her honest face.

"But I want to."

She shook her head. "Consciously, you do. But somewhere in that thick metal skull of yours –" he shot her a look at this "—you've hidden many things on purpose. Maybe they're too painful, or maybe you figured remembering your past would slow you down. Either way, you're the only one who can unlock those memories."

"How?" He asked, frustrated.

Sonya carefully placed her daisy chain on the ground beside her, and then got on her knees in front of him, placing her small, soft hands on his shoulders.

"If I knew that, I would be you. I can only help you remember the things near the surface of your mind." She looked over her shoulder, and saw that the sun had sunk below the top of the oak tree. She turned back to Logan, smiling again. "It's almost time to go. If you don't remember anything else about this, I want you to remember this, Logan – you're never alone."

Then, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. Logan's eyes closed, overwhelmed by her gentle, innocent presence, and when he opened them again, he found himself laying in his bed, Raven sleeping quietly beside him.

Logan touched his cheek, certain that he could still feel the warmth of Sonya's kiss there. Raven woke when he moved, and smiled softly at him.

"Sleep well?" she asked, then added, "You must have, 'cause we're both still alive."

When he didn't reply with a comeback of his own, she raised herself on her elbow and stared at him.

"Logan? You okay?"

He realized then that his hand was still pressed to his face, so he moved it to her waist and replied, "Yeah. Just thinkin'. Sorry."

"That's all right. Good dream?"

"What?" he asked, puzzled, but she simply laughed.

"Never mind," she said, sliding out of the bed and pulling on her jeans, which had been laying at the foot of the bed next to Logan's clothes. She caught him eyeing her suspiciously, and tossed his jeans at his head.

"Your room is like an oven, made worse by the fact that you are your own heat source. I was hot."

"Uh-huh," he replied as he slid into his jeans, and she wished she had something else to throw at him. "Well, I dunno about you, but I could use a beer."

Raven stared at him incredulously. "It's eight-thirty in the morning."

"So?"

She made a noise in her throat and finished zipping up her boots. "I'm going to find Storm and see how Bobby's doing. You go do whatever you want."

She could hear Logan's chuckle all the way down the stairs, and she couldn't keep a smile from finding its way to her lips. By the time she'd made her way to the first floor, Raven had mentally made a list of a dozen of Logan's positive qualities, not the least of which was his obvious magnetism to children. Raven had grinned when she thought of that one; since she'd first met him, he had always grumbled about kids – or "rugrats" as he called them – yet here he was, surrounded by them.

Rogue and Logan had always been close, but now she was nearly an adult, with a boyfriend to shower her with affection. In turn, her relationship with Logan had evolved into a more casual one. Oh, she still adored him, but now she saw him as someone akin to an uncle – someone who protected her like a father would, but who didn't have a father's rules or expectations.

Now, when Sonya had needed him, he'd been there for her. Raven wasn't naïve enough to think that he was replacing Rogue in some sort of selfish need to make up for his less-than-perfect past. She could see that he truly cared for the younger girl, and only wanted to help her because she needed him to.

Back when she'd first come into the mansion, there was something about Sonya that nagged at Raven, something that seemed familiar somehow, but she'd never made the connection.

Now, however, was a different story.

Raven stopped in her tracks, just outside the kitchen, and gasped like she'd just been slapped in the face. She couldn't believe she'd missed it before. She spun on her heel and made her way toward the elevator to the basement, pushing back the myriad of fears that threatened to overwhelm her.

XXXXX

Okay, I know I left it in a very confusing, cliffhanger-y place...I did that on purpose. *Laughs evilly* I just realized that this story is going to be incredibly long the way it's going, so I'm gonna start increasing the chapter length so there won't be like, 40 chapters. Anyway, please read and review...I loves me some feedback!