After their first session, in which Helen taught Logan the finer points of swearing, she left to find Jean.

"Why hasn't he been moved back to his normal room?"

"His right side is paralyzed," Jean explained, as if to a child. "He can't walk; he can't maneuver a wheelchair; he can barely sit up."

"I checked him. He can still feel sensation on the right side of his body. He should've started physical therapy immediately to reprogram his brain."

"He was resistant to even the idea of therapy. Besides, the stitches aren't even out yet."

"When do they come out?"

"In two days."

"Ok, that's moving day. I'll let Rogue know."

Jean stood speechless in the hallway, watching Helen purposefully stride away.

Two days later, it was finally time for the stitches to come out. Marie was nervous about what she would see. She didn't want to break down crying in front of Logan and upset him. She didn't want him to think that their relationship would be any different because of what had happened. After meditating that morning to calm her nerves, as Logan had taught her, she made her way down to the Med Lab.

As it turned out, she shouldn't have worried, at least about crying. As Jean and Hank cut away the bandages, they revealed tender skin dotted with numerous small wounds and larger surgical scars, where repairs to the underlying tissues had to be made. As she saw the wounds covering his legs, his arms, his chest, back, and head, she understood the agony he must have endured, and she felt a white hot rage begin to consume her.

Erik. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to tear him to pieces, like he'd done to Logan. She wanted to touch him, to suck out his personality and torture him in her head for eternity. She wanted to make him pay, but she couldn't. He was already dead.

Her impotence and frustration only increased her anger. She tried to keep a mask on her emotions, but it took over an hour to remove all the stitches and by then, the mask had started to slip. She excused herself, telling Logan she would see him later, and hoping that he didn't see the emotions ripping through her.

She had to get away. She had to hurt someone. As soon as the Med Lab door shut, she broke off in a run for the gym.

As soon as she entered, she attacked the punching bag, hitting and kicking it until she could hardly catch her breath. She'd barely noticed when Scott walked over from the weight machine to hold the bag for her as she beat on it.

Stopping only when she couldn't keeping standing any longer, she plopped to the floor, puffing. Scott sat down beside her, but she just kept glaring at the bag, wishing it was Erik, wishing she could tear it in two.

"You want to tell me what just happened?" Scott asked when she'd caught her breath.

"No."

"Wait... Jean mentioned... the stitches came out today, didn't they?"

"I should've been there. I'm the only one that can deal with Magneto. If I had been there, Logan wouldn't... wouldn't..."

"It's not your fault, Rogue. I've had the same feelings. If I had acted sooner... If I had shot before Magneto could attack... I didn't. We can't go back, Rogue. Ultimately, what happened to Logan is Magneto's fault. He's dead, and now we have to live with the consequences."

"Yeah, but you got to kill him. I just... after what... I want to see him suffer."

"I only killed him because he didn't give me another option. I wish I hadn't needed to... Listen, I've discussed this with the professor, and it really helped. Maybe you..."

"Yeah, rightt. Erik was the professor's best friend. How can I go tell him I wish the bastard had suffered more? I mean. He went to the freakin' funeral for heaven's sake. How can I talk to him?"

"He understands, Rogue. He doesn't agree with what Magneto did."

"I still have his memories, you know."

"What?"

"Erik's memories. The personalities go away in time, but the memories stay. How can someone who went through what he did... live through what they did to him... how could he do that to Logan? I don't understand!"

"I don't either. I just know that we will get through this. Logan needs you now."

"That's another thing. What if... What if Logan..."

She couldn't bring herself to say it. Over the past two weeks, she hadn't even allowed herself to think it. What if Logan didn't recover? What if he was never the same?

Scott seemed to understand. "I don't know, Rogue, but even if Logan doesn't..." her hitched breath cut him off and he saw the tears on her face. "You haven't lost him. No matter what happens in the future, Logan is still Logan, and he still loves you and Anna."

Rogue could only nod as the tears fell.

An hour after the stitches had come out and Marie had left, Helen entered the Med Lab. Grasping the sheet and pulling it away to reveal his pajama bottoms she said, "Rise and shine. It's moving day."

She immediately got out the harness and started attaching it around Logan's waist and legs.

"Whuuh?"

"No more Med Lab for you. You're going back to your room."

"Buh I caaahn..."

"No buts." Helen said, pulling on his right arm as he pushed against the table with his left to get him into a sitting position. "Meet your new set of wheels."

Logan looked down at the wheelchair before him, and tried to shake his head, but Helen was already turning him so that his legs dangled over the edge of the bed.

"Ok," she said, gripping the harness around his waist. "Hold on to the bed with your left hand and try to land on your good leg when we push off. Ready?"

"Nooo!"

Helen stopped. "What?"

Logan mumbled something that was too hurried and garbled to understand.

"You'll have to repeat that."

"Geeet... Jeeee-an."

Helen backed away. "No."

Logan, bracing himself up by his weak left arm now that her support was gone, looked at her dumbfounded. "Whuuuh?"

"No. Jean won't be using her telepathy to translate for you any more. We had a nice discussion and decided it was best to let you talk on your own."

Logan just stared at her. "Whuuh?"

"You heard me. Now are you ready to move?"

"Nnnoo." He tried to explain his reasons again, and this time she caught a word that sounded like "chair" and another that was unmistakably "weak."

"Oh, I see. You don't want everyone to see you in a wheelchair. You think it makes you look weak in their eyes."

Logan nodded, relieved that she understood. He started to lean back down to a prone position on the bed when Helen grabbed his harness and eased him back up. "Let me ask you one question. Do you think Professor Xavier is weak?"

Confusion filled his features as he answered, "Nnnoo."

"He uses a wheelchair, but it doesn't make you think any less of him, does it? He uses it because he needs it. Right now, you need to use this chair. You're not staying in here and a chair is a lot more dignified than dragging yourself along the floor to your room, don't you think?"

"Bit-chh."

Helen smiled. "Ah, you've been practicing. Gold star for you. Now on three, you're leaving this bed."

She tightened her grip on the harness and made sure he was in the proper position. When everything was ready she said, "One... two... three!"