I am sooooooo sorry for the long wait. Due to renovations in my houses my internet was disconnected. But, thank the gods, I have it back now. Trust me, the wait hurt me more than it did y'all. But, finally, here's the next chapter. Huge thanks to storyofgreen and Patricia16 for reviewing. Here it is, read, review, enjoy!


When Warren came to himself, it happened slowly, and took a long time for him to remember how and why he'd gotten to where ever he was. He opened his eyes to find the dirty, cracked ceiling of a dingy motel room. The only light in the room came streaming through the many cracks in the blinds covering the window that took up most of one wall. He was laying on a double bed, the sheets on which felt greasy under him, there was a TV sitting on a dresser across the room from him, a table with two chairs in the corner by the window, and a long, just as gross looking couch on the far wall. There were two doors, one on the same wall as the window, leading outside, Warren guessed, the other was smaller and looked more like a closet door, which Warren assumed led to the bathroom.

He sat up, and stopped, wincing. The pain was nothing new, but it brought back memories of the night before. The only one that came at first however, was the poisonous hiss of, 'We'll leave this place and start a new life together,' That was enough to make his heart start pounding painfully in his chest. He started to leap to his feet, but stopped, putting a hand to his head as a sudden wave of nausea swept over him.

But before he could panic too much, his fuzzy memory began to patch in the rest. Logan… that was right, he had left the institute, but not with Scott, with Mr. Logan.

Then he started to panic even more. Logan wasn't in the room. Where had he gone? Had he gone back to the institute? Had Scott found him? Had he decided that Warren wasn't worth the bother and abandoned him?

Warren began to pace the room frantically with worry as he struggled to breath. Calm down, he told himself reasonably. But his body refused to listen.

He almost fell over when he heard the scrapping of a key and moments later the door opened and Logan walked in, whistling cheerfully.

"Great, you're up," he said, smiling. He held a newspaper in one hand and his jacket in the other.

"Y-yeah," he fumbled, feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions, but at the same time was finding it difficult to make his hands stop shaking.

"You must have been pretty beat," Logan observed, "I thought you were gonna sleep straight through the day. You hungry? Its almost dinner time."

"U-uh, yeah," Warren muttered. No one had ever asked him if he was hungry before. With his dad a butler or maid would come and tell him dinner was ready, and at the institute, it was pretty much up to him to make sure he got fed. Slowly, very slowly, the fact that his life had just turned upside down was beginning to dawn on him. Warren ran a hand uncomfortably through his hair, and frowned when dirt and bits of grass came away with it.

"M-maybe I should take a shower first," he said, blushing as he looked down at himself and realized he was still wearing the dirty, ripped up, slightly bloody clothes from the day before.

"Right," Logan agreed, "I had some spare clothes in the saddlebags," he said, motioning to the heap in one of the chairs, "They'll probably be huge on you, but it's all we have for now. We can go shopping after we eat."

"Great," Warren said, hastily grabbing the clothes and retreating into the bathroom, struggling to hide his blush.

Warren took his time in the shower, letting the hot water wash over his aching body as he tried to process everything that this new development in his life would mean.

He made a mental list:

1.) No more Scott.

2.) Mr. Logan with him, constantly.

3.) Mr. Logan talking to him, constantly.

4.) Eating meals with Mr. Logan.

5.) Going shopping, with Mr. Logan.

6.) Living with Mr. Logan.

7.) Watching Mr. Logan walk.

8.) Watching Mr. Logan eat.

9.) Staring at Mr. Logan's ass.

10.) Kissing Mr. Logan.

11.) Not kissing Scott.

12.) Mr. Logan.

It was almost impossible to believe. Scott was really gone, and had been replaced by Mr.

Logan. Had he died and gone to heaven?

But no, he was alive, and this was real. It was just too amazing to believe.

Turning off the water he dried off and started getting dressed. Logan had been right; the clothes were way too big for him. The pants wouldn't even stay up unless the belt had been put on the tightest hole, and the old sweatshirt felt like a tent. But they were clothes. They were Mr. Logan's clothes. And as a bonus his wings didn't feel too cramped in the shirt.

At length he left the bathroom, hoping he wasn't blushing, but the was a rather futile hope as he was always blushing around Mr. Logan.

"Ready?" Logan asked, smiling up at him. He'd settled on the bed and was reading the paper waiting for him.

Warren nodded and followed him shyly out of the motel room. Outside Warren looked around for Logan's bike, but didn't see it. Instead Logan started heading towards a older looking, in good shape but for a few rough patches on the paint job, pick up truck.

"Where'd your bike go?" Warren asked. He was immediately shocked at himself, amazed that he'd had the courage to ask the question, but then scolded himself, if he was going to be living with Mr. Logan now, he should be able to talk to him. Nonetheless, habit made him flinch slightly and his pulse quicken as he waited for a slap, whether verbally or physically.

Of course, none came. Logan merely shrugged, looking slightly awkward, as though embarrassed and said, "I sold it. Figured we might be living out of our bags for a while and there wasn't much luggage room on the bike."

"Oh," was Warren's meek reply. Cautiously he got into the passenger seat of the truck, trying hard to ignore the heat flaming in his cheeks.

"So, what do you want to eat?" Logan asked, starting the car and pulling away, "There's just about anything you like nearby, take your pick."

"I, um," he stuttered. If Warren wasn't used to be asked whether he wanted to eat, he was even less familiar with being asked what he wanted to eat. "I-I don't care," he finally managed, "You pick."

Logan gave him an odd look out of the corner of his eye, but shrugged and scanning the road they were traveling on, turned off into a strip mall. "This looks good," he said, parking in front of what looked to be a small, cozy, family owned café.