Logan woke gasping, both hands pressed against his own ears as though he could block out a sound only he could hear.
*Home.*
It came again, faint, fractured, more feeling than voice, echoing somewhere behind his own thoughts like a word spoken from the bottom of a well. He sat up in bed, his wound from the training yard still tender beneath fresh bandages, sweat cold along his back despite the cool night air.
"Home," he said aloud, testing the word against the empty room, half hoping saying it might make the strange pressure in his skull disappear.
It did not.
*Home. Home.*
The word repeated itself, weaker each time, like something trying to speak through water, desperate to be understood but unable to form anything beyond that single fragment. Logan pressed his palms against his tem
