Never written an X-Men story before, but as I am currently hopelessly obsessing over it, I figured I'd give one a try. Spoilers for X2. X3 may or may not have happened, but this takes place before.

I haven't sat and read all the comics, and watched the TV show either. I am aware of them, but I'm not big on TV watching, and my computers is notably less than amazing for reading online comics/manga/ anything with pictures.

Anyway, the idea came 'cos I thought that while people remember Jean died, they also forget that Scott was kidnapped by Stryker (Twice, if you count the Origins movie) and that's got to cause some problems. Then my imagination ran off with the idea.

Suppose I should have a warning for language too XD

Will eventually be Logan/Scott slash, though not straight away.

This will be following Logan's POV, unless I say otherwise.

Healing. Chapter 1.

It was late. The majority of students were in bed, though a few were still about. Logan moved slowly through the halls. He walked silently, and listened carefully. He knew it wasn't too likely that they would be attacked again, so soon. Especially not after McCoy had got things sorted. However, carelessness was inexcusable. Logan knew the children who stayed up in the West Dorms. There were only 3 who didn't sleep, and another 4 who didn't need much sleep. He knew that only 2 of them liked to stay downstairs after hours. The others would be in their rooms.

They may be children, and not in need of sleep, but time alone was still necessary, and when better to have that time than when others were occupied. Plus, one girl in particular had learnt wandering the hallways at night disturbed people. She had been in the Teacher's Wing, following her daydream, when she had woken Logan. He hadn't really appreciated it, and had told her so fairly bluntly.

He moved down the hallway, and into the kitchen, intent on finding something to drink. He had been cornered into teaching self-defence lessons, another precaution taken up since the attack. Therefore, alcohol (which was in a separate room, as Ororo had shown him) was not on the agenda for this night. Neither was a very late night, but sometimes sleep evaded people, without reason. It could be rude like that.

With a sigh, he grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, from a jug in the fridge, which he kicked shut. He had noticed Scott Summers, fast asleep on the counter, an empty glass in front of him, however it wasn't his problem. He gave the kid a nudge, told him to get to bed and left, without checking to see if he'd been heard.

Logan was not a morning person. Therefore, the idea of giving him morning classes had to come from someone truly heartless. Probably the professor, as his lack of appearances on a morning meant most people would be unaware of his issues with mornings.

He called a quick register, to check everyone was there who needed to be there. Only one kid missing and a young girl piped up that it was her friend, who was sick. He nodded, made a note and got onto teaching. Basics though, these children ranged from 10 – 13. The groups for his classes weren't large enough to break into year groups, not yet at least.

Logan looked at the eager faces of 12 young children. He felt trapped, but also empowered. He had a lesson plan. Cyclops had insisted he made one, and 'Ro had very kindly offered to help. A plan was good. Unfortunately, talking was a necessary part of this.

"Uhh, so, ya know why your here?"

12 heads nodded, eyes focused on him.

"Got sheets here. You'll need to fill 'em in. To say what you all wanna get out of this, yeah?"

One or two uncertain faces, but they all nodded. He handed them out and repressed a sigh. This was going to be a long day. The children sat on the floor of the sports hall and took paper and pencils off their new teacher.

Logan opened his register and flicked to the pages about his students. Not something that would come up in many other schools, but it involved a description of the student's abilities, so it was definitely needed here. A glance through told him these children did not have offensive abilities.

They would probably need to learn basic fighting styles too. He'd asked about that, and the professor had told him it would be fine. Apparently Cyclops taught martial arts to older students, over 15. But it was optional. It was something that would require thought.

Today he'd start with a defensive stance. A good stance was needed to remain balanced in blocking anything. He'd also get them to move around in stance, and see how quiet they could be.

The stance was learnt quickly enough, one fist (made correctly) held tight by their face. That was to be kept at all times. The other hand was to be kept in front of their bodies, to protect the chest and stomach. He made sure they kept their feet at shoulder width, knees slightly bent, weight balanced evenly.

Logan watched as they ran around for a bit, stopping to do exercises, from star jumps to press-ups (Or some version of them, he wasn't too worried that they couldn't get it right), then he would get them to fall into stance, and see who did so, and had a strong stance.

A quick glance at his watch told him they only had 10 minutes left, if he was giving them time to shower and change before their next lesson. Time for a game. He didn't have a name for it, nor did he remember where he'd picked it up, but it seemed appropriate for children their age.

The idea was for them to sit in a circle around one child, who would be in the middle with their eyes shut. Another child would then be picked to creep around the outside of the circle once, then into the middle, through a picked point, grab the treasure the first child guarded then run back around the circle, with the other child following, to the starting point. While sneaking, the middle child could point in the direction they thought the other was in; they'd win if they picked the child out, but would lose a 'life' if they pointed incorrectly. It was fun, and meant the children had to move as quietly as they could.

Naturally, it ended up with 2 children left in what couldn't be called a circle anymore, and the rest running about playing something like tag. Logan was fairly surprised to find himself laughing with them as they ran about.

"Oh, sh- yeah, um. No swearing right." He mumbled, standing up. "Alright kids, changing rooms. Go get ready for your next class. Be nice, and shower if you stink. Wouldn't want the kids near you next to complain."

He grinned as a few laughed, skipping over to the changing rooms. It had actually been good, almost worth the effort of getting up before 8am. But he had the next 2 periods free, and then it was lunch. 3 hours free.

Probably time to go get food. He hadn't moved in time to get breakfast.

Logan gathered his papers and quietly left the hall.

"How'd your class go?"

Logan turned slightly, to regard the young man who had wandered into the kitchen. Cyclops poured himself a glass of milk and leaned against the counter.

"It was alright. Th' kids are good. Seemed to enjoy it."

"They did. I had maths with them 2nd period, and all they wanted to talk about was your lesson."

It didn't seem like a criticism, in fact, the other was smirking.

"You mean I didn't tire 'em out? I'll have to try harder next time."

Cyclops 'hmm'-ed in response, but didn't say anything. He just sipped his milk. Logan shrugged, and finished his sandwich slowly; His mind filled with different ideas.

The man glanced over at Cyclops. His whole posture implied he was tired. His shoulders were hunched, his head hung low. He was breathing slowly, evenly. Logan would bet on the man having bags under his eyes, but that couldn't be seen.


"Hm? Oh... a little. I don't sleep well."

"If you're trying to sleep in the kitchen a night, then I can take a guess at why."

He could remember seeing the leader slumped exhausted over the counter last night. Not exactly an inspirational sight, luckily most of the kids stood no chance of seeing him like that.

"Hmm? Oh... yeah. It's just... nightmares..."

"Nightmares? Of what, Jean?"

He knew most people skimmed around the topic of Jean, claiming Scott was still grieving and reminding him of what he's lost wouldn't help. Logan knew this was bollocks. He knew there was a saying for this 'A problem shared is a problem...' somethinged. Sorted? Divided? Anyway, it meant talking helped.

"Sometimes, yes. I dream that I could have helped her, and I watch her drown because I was too slow. Other times, I hear her calling to me. Not necessarily a nightmare, but it doesn't give restful sleep. But sometimes, no. I dream of Stryker, what he did to me. What he made me do. It brings back memories of the first time that man took me. I hate it when they mix. It's awful when I can't see anything, can only here Jean, and I know he's after me. Keeps me up."


"Yeah... I was there a good few days before you came."

"What happened? And, what happened the first time?"

Logan couldn't deny he felt anger at the idea someone had hurt the kid. He looked so small; almost defenceless. If he could forget this was Cyclops, a 29 year old man with deadly optic blasts that came out his eyes, he'd say he looked pathetic and completely defenceless. The man has moved to a stool next to Logan and was staring out of the window, his face blank. He'd always thought the man had a steel rod rammed up his arse, now it was as though someone had removed said rod and Cyclops had collapsed without that support. It was a sad idea, but he still felt a smile tugging at his lips. The thought made Jeannie a steel rod, and Cyclops sounded like a scarecrow.

Scott was clearly trying to think of how to answer. Logan could see his brow pulled into a frown.

"He... when I was 15, he took me from school." He said slowly, still looking out the window, at the heavy rain.

"From school? Like, in the middle of lunch or something?"Logan was trying to imagine it, but Cyclops was taking a long time to think his story out.

"No, I was in after school detention again. Don't laugh. My Spanish teacher hated me. She was totally unreasonable. Anyway, I was in detention and his... guy... came for me. He tapped on the window with his claws. No, they weren't like yours. More dog claws." Cyclops smirked, and Logan frowned, both because his unasked questions were being answered, and because that rang a bell in the back of his mind.

"Yeah, so... I ran."

"Fearless Leader? And you ran?"

"No. Terrified 15-year old kid and I ran."

Logan smirked, but waited for him to continue.

"So... basically I ran and he ... bounced... after me. It wasn't running, what he did. And he swiped at my ankles. I ruined half the school, cos my glasses went flying, and the guy spoke to Stryker."

"What did he say?"

"Don't know. I can't really remember. They took me to their ... lab, or whatever it was. They kept me out of it most the time, but he wanted to know about my eyes. Spoke to me for ages about them. I think they were just gathering info, you know? But... any answers I couldn't give, they hit me. Asked all sorts: what my glasses were made of? How far did my blasts go? What powered them? Some things I knew, some I didn't."

He shrugged and drained his glass. Logan watched him. He looked as though there was something else he wanted to say, but was aware that they'd sat a long time. Children were coming out for lunch now.

"And?" May as well try finishing this... talk.

"And... it's his face. For a long time the man in my nightmares was in the shadows. I couldn't remember his face clearly, but now I can see him walking towards me."

Cyclops turned, and put his glass into the sink, quickly washing, and drying it. How did you respond to that? Logan wasn't too sure.

"He shouldn't be walking anywhere. Magneto had tied him up tight."

"I know." Cyclops chewed on his lip for a moment, before shaking his head. "Thanks Logan. Remember to sort your dishes when you're done."

Logan grinned. "Sure. You remember that kitchens are for eating, not sleeping. Yeah, kid?"

He heard the young man snort lightly as he left.

He stood up, and repeated Cyclops's actions with his plate and mug.

"Not that he bothered eating anything on this visit to the kitchen either." He mumbled, a frown marring his face. If talking didn't work, the boy would need a good slapping. He'd be only too happy to volunteer his services.

Done. Not that I'm entirely certain where I'm going. But I do have a story line planned out. Well, more of a story web. I've not got a single line where this could go. But several slightly different routes.

Anyway, please send me a lovely little review. (Even if there is criticism, so long as it's constructive.) I update much faster when I get feedback, even if it's anonymous.

Sorry for any mistakes, in grammar or spelling or whatever. It's 2am, and I have no beta. (If I make any mistakes regarding schooling systems or whatever that you can't imagine an excuse for, I'm sorry. I'm British, so my understanding of American systems isn't great.) Haha, also should say sorry for Logan's speech. I seriously can't get the hang of it, but I tried.

Thanks for reading. Please review :)