*****

"Don't you fucking dare try that crap, Jeanie."

Logan. Logan's voice. He didn't dream about Logan. Nightmares yes, but Logan didn't call him Jeanie.

St. John woke up to Logan's voice and the feel of Rogue twisting a little beside him and quickly pulled his arm from under her head, trying to remember what he'd seen Bobby do when she got like this. Nightmares, dreams, bad things, shit, and what time was it anyway? He couldn't even remember where the clock was.

"Logan, we don't need more dissension in the ranks. Try, just once, to think of someone other than yourself. She's--"

"Mine to worry about. You and Cyke go fuck up the other kids' heads if that's how you get your kicks." The stomp of boots. "What the fuck did you say to her? Yeah, I know you had one of your patented little chats--she was acting fucking odd all afternoon. You wanna make this hard, darlin'? We'll make it hard."

"Logan." Rogue whispered, and St. John looked down quickly--shit, she was still asleep. One gloved hand twisted in the blankets, trying to push them off. "Don't."

"Rogue," he hissed, looking uncertainly down at her writhe on the sheets. Fuck, Bobby just sat by her, but he'd seen Jubes hold her down before when she started getting seriously upset. Especially after the isolation room situation. Rogue would get scary then, mumbling out words that didn't string together to make anything that made sense at all, trying to fight her way out of something, but--but--but--

"Fuck you, no!" He almost jumped as she jerked again, and grabbed her wrists, pinning them down. "Let me out!"

Fuck, that could be heard in the hallway.

"S'okay, Rogue."

"Marie?" Logan now, boots coming this way. Suddenly, she escaped his grasp and one leather-covered hand went around his throat--oh fuck, this couldn't be good. Getting her wrist, he shifted until he was on top of her and kept her other wrist down, trying to pry her fingers loose.

This hadn't made his top ten list of ways to die, either. Oh fuck.

"Logan--" Jean again, her footsteps following a little too fast. Like she was trying to stop him or something, and shit, Dr. Grey, have you lost your mind? Of course, he certainly hoped Dr. Grey continued to block Logan's attempts to get in this room--looking down, Rogue was beginning to seriously fight him.

"Rogue?" The footsteps were coming closer and as St. John got her hand down, he realized very abruptly how bad this really would look when Logan walked in.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Go to bed, Bobby." Dr. Grey, strained, holding on to control by the thinnest thread.

Bobby was home? St. John craned his neck to check the time--far wall clock? Yep, we're good--yeah, two in the morning, that was about right. Jubes and Kitty would be next, and shit, let them get in here first, so he could get out of the way before Logan walked in.

In worst case scenario, Logan came in to see St. John sitting on top of and holding down a thrashing Rogue while he, St. John, was dressed in boxers and a t-shirt. Shit, if he saw that, he'd jump to the wrong conclusion too. Oh fuck, this wasn't happening, it just wasn't.

"No," Rogue muttered, and her whole body arched, almost unseating him. Bracing a knee on either side of her hips--yeah, you're dead, Johnny, you are so fucking dead--St. John bore down a little harder on her wrists and tried to shake her. "No--don't--please--"

"Roguey, wake up. Shit, get up!" Slapping her was out of the question, even if he'd seen Jubes do it before--and even should he so lose his mind as to let her get one wrist free so he could. Some kinds of conditioning just held--you don't hit a girl. Never. Except in the practice ring, because, shit, it hurt when Rogue got all intensely concentrated on kicking your ass. But only in the ring, not here. Not in her bed while suffering from nightmares.

Shit, being a gentleman sucked.

"Logan, we'll handle this--"

"What's going on?" Jubes, oh thank God, get your ass in here now, girl. Now. Outside, more feet, and they were getting mighty close to the door--he got the feeling Jean was physically standing between the door and Logan, and that couldn't be a good thing. He just didn't think Logan had too much gentleman conditioning in him.

"Yeah, I see how you handle it--you leave it up to the kids to watch out for her. What the fuck are you doin', Jean? Get the fuck outta my way."

"Logan--"

"Is Roguey havin' another nightmare?" Jubes was coming down the hall, sounding her normal perky self--nothing ruffled Jubilee. "Where the hell is she?"

Wow, that was a loaded question. St. John would guess Logan hadn't found Rogue where he expected her to be--his room--and ran right into Dr. Grey during the search.

More footsteps and thank God, it was Jubes at the door, he'd know the sound of her heels anywhere, Jubes, who would figure out immediately what was going on. The door opened--and really, St. John hadn't realized how close everyone was. She took one look inside--those behind her tried and he could swear Logan took a step forward--and Jubilee's eyes widened. She darted in, shutting the door tight and flipping on the lights.

"Oh fuck, St. John, get the hell away from her before--"

"You hold her down!" What, did she think he was doing this for kicks or something? "She fucking tried to kill me and I'm pretty sure she'd have taken it wrong if she woke up with a lot of me dead and a lot of me in her. I wouldn't take it that well either! Get the hell over here!"

Jubilee flipped the lock just as a hand outside came down on the knob. Outside was a growl--oh shit. Scooting across the room, she pulled off her heels, automatically assuring her yellow jacket was in place, then delicately placed her hand on Rogue's shoulder.

"Rogue, get up. It's a dream. Honey, baby, wake up. Everything's okay."

Rogue bared her teeth a little--kind of chilling. Like she wanted to bite something and St. John remembered the deer all of a sudden and his stomach turned over.

"Let me out. Lemme out. I don't wanna--"

Jubilee stared down at Rogue, taking a breath that hissed between her teeth.

"She's dreaming about isolation--"

"Yeah. I guess that little chat with the Leaders triggered somethin'." Another jerk of Rogue's body. "Jubes, do something. The man has adamantium claws. He's not gonna ask questions until after I'm dead, ya know? Get her calm or get on her and let me off."

Jubilee nodded, and warily placed her hands just below St. Johns on Rogue's arms. Instantly, he began to pull away, and close, so close, he'd be off and away and no way would anyone get the idea that he had some weird thing for attacking girls in their sleep, especially girls with protectors that could turn you into confetti in less time than it took to say the word confetti. Oh yeah. Oh yeah--

Door broke open--whether it was adamantium or just sheer strength, St. John never knew, though he heard the sound of metal faintly. Several people spilled in, and Logan took one look and stopped dead in the center of the room--St. John saw the expressionless eyes light on him for just a moment--before Jubilee freed Rogue's wrists abruptly to face Logan, keeping physically between him and the interesting antics on the bed, and St. John lunged to bring her hands back down before that hand could find his throat again.

"Wolvie." How the *hell* could she say that with a straight face? "Look, it's not--

"Let me the fuck out, Jeanie!" Rogue's entire body arched, almost unseating him, and St. John took a breath, gritting his teeth together, hoping to God someone would get the hell over here and help him out--under normal circumstances, he was much stronger than Rogue. But stronger in a nightmare scenario up against Rogue's hysterical energy was a totally different story. "Not here, not now, I can't, let me go, lemme go, lemme go *now*, I can't--oh God no--" the words dropped to mumbles again, and her head twisted to the side, and he remembered her in the corner of that room, her head turned away from them with the marks of tears staining her bruised face.

Oh dear God. Dr. Grey stumbled in, green eyes wide and shocked--hell, hadn't she *known* at all what was going on with Rogue? Focus, focus, focus, get Rogue down, don't think about the idea of your intestines strewn over the floor if Logan reacts before he thinks. Don't think about the fact that if she gets loose, she'll get you in her head and another round of multiple personality disorder--though maybe you'll be nicer to her in her head, you know? Maybe you can tell yourself now not to bother her too much. No. Don't think about that. Think about keeping her down, keeping her still--

--get her out of this before she says something and Logan knows what happened.

"ROGUE!"

Her eyes snapped open abruptly, her entire body going perfectly still. Blinking, she stared up at him, and he carefully freed her wrists, hoping to God he hadn't injured her. Absently, she pulled her hands down from above her head, completely unaware of anyone else in the room. Rubbed her wrists absently.

"Sorry," she whispered, and he watched her shiver convulsively. "Just--remembered too much, I guess. I'm sorry."

"Remembered what?"

Logan's flat voice snapped her head around fast and she struggled up, almost knocking into St. John, who grabbed her shoulder to balance himself. A glance at Logan told him that it probably wasn't the brightest idea in the world and he quickly pulled his hand away, taking Jubes' arm and climbing back on the floor. Jubes pulled him back--and he was glad about that, damn it--

"Logan." She threw her legs over the side of the bed, eyes roaming quickly around the room, marking everyone--Bobby by the door, Kitty and Remy nowhere to be found--smart move--Dr. Grey and Logan standing in the center of the room, then him and Jubes standing by the bed. "Just a--just a dream."

Nothing--St. John felt himself drawing away, Jubes with him, not sure what to do or even how to do it even if there was something. Rogue's head went down for a second, and he could see the tension in the muscles of her back, the way her gloved hands clenched into the mattress on either side of her.

"Jean?" he asked quietly--so quietly, so evenly. Rogue began to stand up, but sat back down the second Logan took a step forward--but not toward her. Without preamble, he ducked by the bed, into her closet, and that was just odd enough that Bobby took a step in the door and they all moved forward, despite better judgement. Logan came back out with Rogue's jacket in his hand, grabbed her by the upper arm, and pulled her off the bed. Startled, she didn't really respond, probably still a little dazed.

"Logan, what are you doing?" Jean's voice came out just as quiet as Logan's. He turned slightly.

"Tell Cyke time's up, Jeanie. You don't wanna explain, I'll get the answers the old fashioned way. I'll get her stuff later."

"You can't take her, Logan."

Rogue blinked a little, had just started to pull away when her eyes went to Dr. Grey. Instantly, she was replaying in her mind that confrontation with Scott, St. John knew she was, putting things together. Making a choice faster than he'd ever thought she could. Shifting, she got her jacket from Logan's hand, sliding it over her shoulder.

"Okay." Her breathy voice brought all attention back to her, and St. John watched her pick her words carefully. Always careful, always measuring, classic Rogue. "Logan--it's not that big a deal. We'll--we can go talk about it. Okay? Logan?" A glance at Dr. Grey that was pure warning, before she shifted so she stood physically between him and the rest of them, staring up at him, putting every bit of persuasion in her voice, every ounce of pure faith. His grip on her arm eased and she carefully pulled away, slowly, reaching up and getting his hand in her gloved one. "We'll--look, we'll go talk. If you--if you wanna go then, we'll go, okay? Jubes can pack my stuff and send it later. But--but let's talk first. Please, Logan? Talk." A turn on her heel, that steady gaze fixed on them all, one by one, an individual warning apiece, her way or the highway. She was the only person he'd ever met who could intimidate you wearing pajama bottoms and still trembling from her dreams. "Everyone out. Now."

St. John didn't waste a second. Getting Jubes by the arm, he pulled her toward the door, shoveling Bobby along with them. Several seconds, and a glance inside, showed Dr. Grey lingering, watching them both.

"Rogue--"

"I think you should go." Rogue had turned fully, defensively, he thought. Logan still hadn't moved, and from here, St. John could see his free hand clench, saw the stretch of leather across Rogue's knuckles gripping Logan's hand, her silent message telling him to let her handle it. "Jeanie, this is my problem, 'kay? Go. Talk to Cyke, tell him--tell him I may be leavin' in a few hours."

"Rogue, honey--"

"Don't make me ask again."

Dr. Grey took a breath, then turned stiffly, walking out of the room, past the students as if she didn't even see them--and hell, she might not. Jubilee, once she was down the hall, reached in and shut the door, but not before St. John saw Logan's gloved hand brush across Rogue's cheek, her head bent slightly as she tried to brace herself.

"Marie," he said softly, and St. John didn't know Logan could be that gentle, tilting her head up carefully, brushing her hair back from her face. Perfect, unwavering focus on her and her alone. "Marie, tell me."

"Johnny? What's going on?" Bobby's voice in his ear. With a sigh, Jubilee turned to look at them.

"I'll go tell Remy and Kitty--she had an idea of how it would go down and went to warn him."

"You can sleep in our room tonight," Bobby said softly. Almost absently, as if he really wasn't paying attention. "Door'll be unlocked. Just come on in. You ready, Johnny?"

"Yeah." St. John looked at the door thoughtfully for a minute. "Yeah. Jubes, you can sleep with me--Bobby'll freeze your ass if you try to climb in with him." A punch to his shoulder--and wasn't that just a little hard for a joke?--before Jubilee grinned oddly and took off down the hall. Rubbing his upper arm---damn, that was it, he was doubling his workout time per week--St. John followed Bobby back to their room.

One look at his bed, however, stopped him cold.

"Shit." Blankets, pillow gone, and you couldn't pay him to walk back to that room. Hell, he didn't think he could get as far as walking out the door at this point.

Bobby followed his gaze, frowning a little.

"Where's your--oh." His voice was quiet, and Bobby turned away, going to his bed to sit down, pulling off his shoes absently. St. John stayed where he was for a moment, leaning back against the wall to watch Bobby as he pulled off his shirt and got up to go to the dresser, absently dropping his clothes on the floor. Averted his eyes when Bobby began stripping.

He wondered which question Bobby was gonna ask first.

"You want her, Johnny?"

St. John flicked his gaze up, but Bobby was pulling on sweatpants, bare-chested, looking so much like always that it seemed just a little too weird.

"We were sleeping. That's all." He kept his voice even, but everything in him felt faintly sick. Very wrong--this wasn't how it should happen, it just wasn't. This wasn't the way he wanted this to go--they needed to talk. But not like this.

"You usually sleep with your friends?" Bobby asked softly, and he walked stiffly to his bed, sitting down. Expressionless voice and St. John couldn't read anything on his face at all. Like some weird betrayal, like he'd been unfaithful, and he didn't like feeling that.

"I sleep with you. Is there supposed to be a difference?" Ouch, that hurt, he knew it, and St. John crossed his arms over his chest, hating himself for the edge in his voice. Bobby stared at him for a minute, and then looked away again, eyes fixed on the door just to St. John's left.

"I don't know." There was honest confusion in his voice. "I was sort of wondering about that." St. John's gaze went back to Bobby, but Bobby was still staring at the door. "What you're doing. What I'm doing, you know? You never--"

"Hey!" Jubilee came skidding in, coming to an abrupt stop--she could read mood like few people St. John had ever met. "Whoa doggies, what did I screw up here?"

Bobby was the first to recover.

"Nothin'. Johnny left all his stuff with Rogue, so lucky me, we gotta share this bed. Either one of you say something about sleepin' on the floor, I'm going to remind you that I could accidentally freeze it tonight." It was the best imitation smile St. John had ever seen in his life. "Come on, kiddos. I'm tired and if Logan's still here tomorrow, we got first day of the fun of advanced combat training. Let's get sleep while we can."

Jubilee blinked and St. John levered himself off the wall, going to the dresser and pulling out some sweats and a t-shirt for Jubilee to borrow before glancing at Bobby. Behind him, he heard Jubilee strip off her dress and jacket and hose--she could dress in record time--then she hopped by him, climbing up to the foot of the bed and shifting over while St. John got his spare pillow from under his bed and followed her up.

It was hours before he slept. From Bobby's irregular breathing, he knew Bobby didn't sleep for long while either.