Chapter 1

In the forest behind Xavier's School for the Gifted, the winter air blew through the trees without remorse or thought. The ground was liberally covered with white snow, reminding whoever was out in the weather of the bitter cold. The only one's that seemed to not mind the cold were the animals that had taken up residence in the Westchester Forest.

Well, them, and a young lady that went by the name of Rogue. Well, most people called her Rogue, even Professor Xavior. For some reason, though, beyond her understanding, Logan always called her Marie.

Logan. He was part of the reason that she was out in the woods on this cold day. No. If ah am goin' to be truthful with myself, Logan is the only reason ah am here, she thought, but it wasn't a bitter thought. In fact, she had a little half smile on her beautiful face.

The fact was that Marie still had some of Logan in her head. Even though this thought made her semi-happy, it also confused her somewhat. The remnants of Magneto had long ago quieted. But not Logan. Every once in a while, when she was annoyed, she would let a small growl out that would do Logan proud, if he knew. She shuddered to think of how he would react, though.

He was already feeling guilty enough that he was inside her head. She knew that he would go on a real guilt trip if he knew that she had some of his... Well, some of his less charming character traits would be an eloquent way to put it.

However, for some reason, she didn't have his fight or flight instinct. Not all the time, anyway. She was the same old Rogue in that aspect. She usually would beat up on herself for being a coward sometimes. In fact, she would always berate herself for crying so much. Especially at night.

The school had accepted her for what she was, mostly-but there were still those that wouldn't come within ten feet of her, after they heard about how she usurped Logan's gift temporarily. They were scared. Rogue could understand that, but it still made her sad to no end. She had a feeling-no, scratch that, she knew that she couldn't have made it without her best friend Jubilee. The girl was an absolute jewel, even if she did talk all the time.

Sometimes it was nice to have Wolverine in her mind. Sometimes.

She had decided a long time ago that she would never tell him that he had never completely faded from her mind. For one simple reason. Every time the subject would come up, Logan-the bad-ass Wolverine-would get a haunted look of guilt and sorrow just at the thought of his dark and inconsolable past in her head. So, Marie tried to avoid the subject as much as possible.

Marie took a seat on a rather large rock, and let out a very explosive sigh. A frown suddenly marred her face as she remembered what she was thinking about when she entered the woods to begin with. She was thinking about Logan, and his undying stubbornness.

She knew that she loved Logan; she loved him with all of her heart. Or at least she thought she did. And not that brother-sister kind of love that most people thought that she had going, and the people that didn't think that thought that it was merely a teenage infatuation that would eventually go away. She knew that it wouldn't, or at least she thought so.

They were all wrong. It was more of a gut-wrenching-need kind of love that had brought the young woman near tears more than once. But, it seemed at every turn, he would look at her as nothing more than a kid. This frustrated the teenage girl to no end. Hell, she trained with the X-Men-couldn't he see that she was old enough?

Damn, ah could use a beer, she thought, twirling the white streak of hair on her head. Then she realized what she just thought and slapped herself in the forehead, as if that would help the thought from coming back.

It was another one of Logan's 'Personality Quirks', as she had begun to call them. She gave in once when she had a sudden craving for whiskey. Her friend Jubilee told her that she had some stashed. Marie drank three-fourths of the bottle... And the next morning she swore off alcohol for good. That and cigars. But not cigarettes. She was quite fond of her Marlboro Reds, and had no wish to give them up-much to Logan's dismay. He could be way over-protective sometimes.

Pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, Marie thought some more. She thought of a subject that she loved, as well as hated. Ways to catch the Wolverine's eye. "Ah could wear less clothing..." But nawt with this skin, her thoughts added bitterly. Sometimes she thought that nobody really understood what it was like not to be able to touch anybody-ever.

That made her more lonely and cold inside than any winter could.

"Enough of this pity-party shit." She knew that her last comment was most likely one of Logan's thoughts. She found that walks usually helped a lot when it came to clearing her thoughts, and when she had to clear her thoughts and Logan's... The walks tended to be a little long.

The young mutant made it about thirty steps before it happened. She tripped and fell. Sitting back up, she let out a slew of curse words that would have made a sailor blush. Logan's thoughts again...

Marie's deep brown eyes scanned the ground that she had been walking on to see what tripped her. At first she saw nothing. However, as she gazed closer, she spotted what looked to be a tip of a boot-the snow was covering the rest.

When she got to her feet, she took timid steps as she edged closer to the object of her curiosity. There just cain't be nothin' attached to that boot. She tried to console herself. Her mind was already thinking of a dead body.

Marie slowly knelt down to the boot in question, and stretched out a hesitant hand, slowly brushing away the snow to reveal more of the boot. The girl was a little pale when she realized that there was indeed a leg attached to the boot. A stray thought wondered how he or she could have gotten so covered in snow while in the forest. Then her mind told her that it must have fallen from the trees.

Rogue began to work in earnest and started removing snow as fast as possible, on the slight chance that whoever was under all the white, cold snow might still be alive. Something she highly doubted, but clung to nonetheless.

When she saw the body completely uncovered, she gave a sharp intake of breath. The boy, that looked to be only a year or two younger than her, was pale blue. But it was not a natural blue, like that of Mystique. It was unnatural. The kind that only prolonged exposure could produce.

His shirt, or what was left of it, looked to be shredded by some kind of claws and covered with dried blood. Lots of it. Whether it was his or someone else's, she didn't know. The hair on the boy's head was a light, light blonde and was matted to his forehead do to snow and more than a little blood.

He looks so peaceful, came the odd thought.

Rogue was more than sure that the boy was dead and felt more than a little sad that someone so young would die like this. However, her sadness was for nothing when she caught the shallow movement of the boy's chest.

At first she thought that she imagined it, but when she saw it again, it set her mind into doing something useful. She remembered that Jean had somehow set it up so that she could call her telepathically if she tried hard enough, and wasn't that far away.

Well, ah think ah betta give it a shot, Marie thought, then screamed as loud as she could in her mind. <'JEAN!!!!'>

Two Hours Later

Mason Creed's first thought was: Where the fuck am I?

He made sure to keep his eyes closed as he let his other senses do the work. Mason really didn't want whoever was walking around him to know that he was awake just quite yet. In fact, he wanted to prolong it as long as he could, or at least until he could get an idea of where the hell he was.

A nose that was so sensitive that it would put a wolf to shame picked up many things as he lay on his back. It picked up enough to know that he was in some kind of med lab. It also picked up perfume.

Perfume? Must be comin' from whoever is watching me. The muscles in his face twitched slightly.

His nose and other senses could also pick up the fact that someone went through the trouble of cleaning him up. He could feel the cotton of a new pair of sweats on him. The blood he was drenched in from the forest was gone. He was still shirtless though, and there were wires hooked up to his chest.

It was all he could do to keep the Animal Within under control. If he was truthful with his self, he would have admitted that he was scared. The smell of the lab and the hard table he was laying on was reminding him way too much of his nightmares, and Mason had NO intention of reliving those.

He was trying to remember how he got here. The last thing he remembered was running from one very big, ugly mutant that was dead set on tearing a pound of flesh from his hide. Although, why, Mason didn't know. In fact, he couldn't remember anything from before the forest.

That worried him. Only being able to remember the fight in the forest, his name and his nightmares was very troubling, to say the least. He couldn't remember anything else. Well, he would have rather forgotten about the nightmares.

As Mason laid there, his ears picked up a new sound, that of a door opening. His noise twitched slightly as he smelled the newcomer. Whoever he was, (and he could tell the person was a he) he liked spending a lot of time outside and he liked to smoke cigars.

Cigars. I'd kill for some nicotine... Great, I'm about to probably be a lab rat and I want a fuckin' cigarette, Mason thought sarcastically, then he focused his attention on the conversation that had just started.

"Logan," was how the woman that had been watching him greeted the newcomer.

Mason was surprised to hear a low growl from the newcomer named Logan. A growl that sounded almost like his did in the woods. "'Kid's got tags like mine." The voice was gravelly and more than a little dangerous.

"That's not all 'The Kid' has that resembles you," the woman started. Mason noticed that she put the emphasis on the word kid, like she was trying to protect him, but he just as quickly dismissed it. It's better not to put any faith in anyone just yet, he thought darkly as he listened to the woman continue.

"His entire skeleton is covered in adamantium. He also has the same 'accessories' as you do. His healing factor is just as good as, or maybe even a little better than yours. I won't know for sure until the computer finishes running the blood tests." This only received a grunt in return.

Adamantium? Accessories? Drawing blood?!? Like Hell. Mason's thoughts were racing.

Pretty soon it started to build. That feeling inside that took away all the fear. The only word he could think of that came close to describing it was 'animalistic'. It would make him see red, wallow in rage and not think straight. It also made him want to destroy whatever was in front of him. However, it also put a damper on his fear. The only time he remembered feeling it was in the forest, but he was pretty damn sure that he had felt it before.

Mason tried to still his mind, but that didn't work. When he felt the pinprick of pain in his arm, just like in his nightmares...

Logan stood back and watched as Jean (Her name was Red to him) walked towards the boy with the needle and shivered in revulsion, remembering the flash backs he had been getting lately. That was when his sensitive hearing picked something up. The Kid's heartbeat.

His eyes flashed as he sensed the rage roll off the kid and put two and two together. He let out a growl and yelled, "Get outta the way, Red!"

A Snikt! could be heard as all six of the kid's ten inch adamantium claws popped out quicker than lightning, plunging right for Jean as he sat straight up.