About 15 minutes after Jean had begun the stitches, they were done, and Jubilee had returned, standing next to the offending tub, picking up the empty champagne bottles.

"It's definitely deeper than mine," she grumbled, wincing as the stitches in her leg pulled a little when she knelt down.

Suddenly she heard someone walk up behind her,

"What ya doin darlin?"

"You shouldn't be sneakin' in my room at night, y'know," he admonished her.

"Yeah right. Nor at any other time," she replied.

"What d'you think you're doin' here anyway?" he asked

"Taking the two remaining bottles away from you. You don't need them, and I sure don't need another show tonight," she snapped. He stared at the floor, unsure of what to say.

"At least, we know you got desenzitiz... desinsitize..." she continued in a lighter tone

"Desensitized," he provided.

"Yeah, whatever... to champagne. You don't need them anymore, so I'll put them back." She bent to grab the bottles, wincing as her leg reminded her of the stitches.

He took the bottles. "I'll carry 'em. Now get to bed," he didn't wait for her reply, walking out of his room and straight to her door. She followed him and took the bottles from him as he slowly opened the door.

"Night, Logan," she said as she entered her room.

"Uh... Jubes?"

"What?"

He pointed at her leg. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, right. You just, like forget it, 'kay? Besides, now I know how sharp they are," she answered, waving to his arms.

"I wouldn't have them if I had a choice," he stated, staring at his fists.

"C'mon, I'm sure they saved your life more than once."

"Yeah, kid. That they did. That's why I wish I never had 'em." He turned and walked away. "Night, kid."

That night, no scream came from Logan's room and all the occupants of the surrounding rooms enjoyed a well deserved peaceful night's sleep. Little did they know that the only reason that Logan wasn't screaming in his sleep was because he didn't sleep at all.

He pondered all night long how he should deal with the situation. There were always two choices in Wolverine's life: fight or flight. Amazingly, going away now echoed running away, being afraid, giving up.

Logan wasn't totally ready for that. Deep down, he really wanted to move on from the past. Running away from it for years didn't really help. Nothing and no one had helped. But now, there seemed be a few people who really wanted to help him. Maybe he could try once again.

That shrink had told him to go slowly with the steps; Jubilee had told him that drinking wasn't the brightest of idea. Not listening to them, always on his own Wolverine mind, he had just been that close to losing it all again. What if it had been Marie, and not Jubilee, in the bathroom? He couldn't forgive himself if he had hurt Marie again. But there was nothing to really prevented it from happenning one day to her or anyone around him.

Facing people now was hard enough, but he had to do it. Since he had decided to not go away, he couldn't hide in his room forever.

Only when he entered the cafeteria did he remember that this was Saturday and thus, a no-class day. Everyone seemed to be still there, the students at the surrounding tables and the staff around the larger table they usually shared.

He nodded towards Jubilee and smiled, although very briefly, to Marie. It seemed to made the girls relax instantly. They smiled back, and then he walked to the staff's table.

"I am glad you are staying with us for the weekend, Dr. Richards," commented Ororo Munroe.

Logan stopped short.

"So what happened last night?" Marie whispered to Jubilee, casting a look at Logan.

"I don't know. He had a rough night, but he's getting better, I guess. He's desensitized to champagne and all, so we won't have to worry about charity events." She poked at her food. She hadn't told Marie about how she had gotten hurt last night; it just would have upset her. Instead she had just wrapped it up, and hoped the stitches didn't pop in training today.

She glanced at Logan out of the corner of her eye, he had frozen in place for a few seconds, but then he continued moving to sit at the table. She guessed everything was all right. It was weird, she had known the guy for, like, eight to nine months? And yet she felt responsible for him, like she needed to protect him. She knew more about him than anyone in the world but Marie, who of course had the advantage since he was still in her head.

She studied him as he ate. He had nice features; he scowled too much, but he had a nice mouth. She might consider pursuing him if it weren't for the whole raving I'm-gonna-snap-at-any-second psycho act. Well that, and he was totally hung up on Marie. With a sigh she stood up. She had a solo training session in the danger room, and after last night it was gonna take a lot out of her.

Logan grabbed his breakfast and sat down at the table at the only seat available, the one across from Dr. Richards. He glanced at her once, and then kept his head down, avoiding everyone's gaze.

He braced himself, waiting for Scooter to start in on him, but nothing happened. The people around the table discussed training schedules with the new graduates, travel details for those kids whose families wanted them home over the summer break, and activities for the kids left at the mansion between school years. His performance last night wasn't mentioned once.

He sneaked glances when he thought it was safe, but no one was looking at him. No one was cringing away from him. It was like last night had been any other night.

As he got up to leave after finishing breakfast, he noted Dr. Richards get up as well, following him out. Once they made it through the cafeteria doors, he turned to her.

"What did you tell them?"

She backed away, surprised by the question. "I am your doctor, Logan. I didn't tell them anything."

"Then why were they acting like nothing happened? Why didn't they say anything to me about your bein' here?"

"Logan," the doctor said with a wry smile, "do you think you're the only person on Xavier's faculty that I've treated?"

At his dawning realization, she laughed and nodded. "If you feel like talking, I'll be around."

Logan didn't feel like talking right now. What was she thinking, anyway? That he would follow her and hide out in a room, so every one in the whole mansion would know he was gettin' therapy? He sure wanted to get rid of the flashbacks, he didn't want to replace torturous memories with humiliating ones!

Naw, for now. Logan opted for a walk around ouside with the sole company of a cigar.