KNOWING HIS PAST

AUTHOR'S NOTE: - I really don't understand what the producers are gonna do now that they have killed every one of our heroes, save Logan and Storm. Hence, this was the only thing that worked.

Logan woke up from the horrible dream with a jerk. Damn Stryker won't leave him alone even in his dreams!

At times like this, Logan sincerely prayed for a chilled beer to wash the sickness from his throat. All he got was bloody soda.

But he loved this place—the Xavier Institute was home. Though he would cut out his tongue and wear only that in New York's Town Square before he admitted it aloud.

He rolled over, trying to find comfort and sleep.

Then jolted upright as Storm came running into the room, clutching her wet night-robe around her.

"What the—"

"Logan! Hurry! Someone's spying on us!"

"What do you mean, spying?" Logan grabbed his jeans and dragged them over the black boxers he wore, making his way to the main door.

"I…I couldn't sleep, so I was walking in the rain. I saw him—or her—from the terrace. The figured hasn't move for about an hour. It's standing in front of the gate, in the rain."

"Could be a kid who needs help," Logan remarked as they raced across the driveway to the door.

He stood in the rain, the water flowing in rivulets down his long brown coat. He would be barely thirteen, though the eerily violet eyes in the bald head were aged and full of knowledge. He did not look to be a threat though, just another 'gifted youngster'.

"Hi," said Aurora, extending a hand to him. "I'm Storm. Won't you come in?"

Trust Storm to keep her manners in times like this.

"Yes, thank you, Aurora Monroe." The voice was just like it should have be, thin but growing heavier. But his gravity and poise told them that this child had seen too much for his age. As they walked back towards the warmth of the interiors, Logan noticed he walked with the quiet elegance of a cat. Graceful, but subtly lethal at the same time.

Nobody questioned how he knew her name.

"What is your name, child?" Aurora asked instead.

"Liam," came the reply. "Liam O'Rourke."

They sat down in the parlor. The dying fire gave out enough light for the conversation.

"You're a long way from home, you little Leprechaun," Logan remarked. "I'm Wolverine, by the way."

"I have no home, James Logan. My own was destroyed years ago."

Logan stopped in the act of poking the rekindling fire. "How do you know that? My name! How do you know that?" Logan grabbed Liam by the lapels of his coat, but the kid was hardly flustered.

"I know a lot about you James Logan. I'm a time-traveler."

"So you travel through time?" Logan couldn't actually disguise his snort as a sneeze. "So why don't we see you all the time, huh, ace?"

"Because you can't. Nobody sees me when I sift through time. I need to tell you your past, James Logan. It's time for you to move on. You can't have a future if you don't have a past."

Logan looked at the kid. There was a grave seriousness in those odd-colored eyes, and urgency well-hidden.

He would give it a shot. He had nothing to lose.

No memory to lose.

"Go on," he muttered. Then he smirked when Storm breathed a sigh of relief. What, she thought he would bark at the kid and throw him out on his ear?

So Liam began his tale. Logan had really fascinated the boy's impressionable mind. He liked Logan's integrity, the fact that he never gave up—never became the animal. He had followed the man's life quite closely.

So he spoke. There was utter silence as he talked about James, the manner of his father's murder, how both James and his half-brother Victor had enrolled in the military.

Logan took a deep breath when Stryker was mentioned, but said nothing. It looked like someone else's story, someone separated from him. It hardly meant anything to him, but he let the kid go on.

He had to know.

It was when Kayla was mentioned that Logan interrupted Liam for the first time. Liam's description of her was horribly familiar.

"The woman. The woman I saw when I…She's my first memory! I saw her lying…She died," he finished. He turned to Liam. "She died of a bullet wound in the gut. I saw her."

"Yes," the answer was subdued, silent. "You loved her."

There was no responsive, no tug in his heart.

"I don't…remember her."

Liam smiled sadly and continued. He told of the plan Stryker had put in play. The horrible truth of the foundation of Logan's love, his final push to becoming the animal Kayla had told him he wasn't, and the revenge that was not even necessary, all was revealed at last.

Logan heard it to the finish, filing away everything he heard. It meant nothing to him. His past was his obsession, but it was just a chapter to be closed. He knew nothing of his life. He wished he did.

The end of Liam's tale came, and Logan was still searching for a sliver of recognition in his heart or mind.

None came.

Liam ignored the couple's pleas to stay with them, saying instead that he had places to go. He refused to explain what exactly it was he had to do, but turned to leave nonetheless.

Then he remembered something. "James?"

"Err…yeah?"

"She gave you the name. Wolverine."

Now came the recognition he had hoped to have for the past hour. He remembered.

Kuakuwachu.