Just in case you don't know, I don't own Marvel nor anything else here in.

Feral.

"Just a few more minutes Mr. Logan, and I'll be finished with you, then you may leave." Said the gray skinned man with the old English accent. His is an antiquated sort of English, the one used over a century ago and all the years traveling the world to pursue his work has done little to dull it. It is not brash, or grainy, but he always speaks as narrating some great novel, he just doesn't sound humane anymore.

His work, genetics, per say. The genetics of many certainly, the honing of a valued few, almost as though he is a gardener tending his prized plants. This man before him, known by many names, Logan the most common, Wolverine among those who need to call him as such, is going to be his pruning shears.

"The new memories shall be in place, fragile as they might be. Without a telepath I cannot make them stick, but they'll work for my purpose. Scream as you like, I know this is painful."

Painful, is not the word for this sort of thing. The damage this causes is not merely all your neurons firing off in what is called a brain- storm, a seizure, to most, a grand mal to others, this is a whole brain hurricane. His whole body is wracked as what were fond memories are temporarily replaced with scenes of explicit torture at the hands of those he loved the best. His friends, his team mates and worse, the woman he loves. Tears bead at eyes edge as his humanity is obfuscated by his primal, feral self, That animal that lays beneath the surface of all sensual creatures. He acts like a wounded and wild animal and he is ready to kill.

At Home.

"Logan! Are you alright? Where have you been!" His new wife fusses over him. "You've been gone for days! I was so worried!" She tries to smooth out his hair and he jerks away from her touch. She thinks that this is just because of the spat they had when he left to cool down. She walks away to give him space and soon feels his hard, warm body come up behind her, pressing into the soft curves of her back, and his arms wrap around her, one around her waist and one around her chest. Thinking he's come to make up, she presses back, It's only when she noticed she's being dragged she understands some things wrong

"Logan, Stop!" She pleads as she notices his hands are getting too rough, that his arms are pushing to tight, and that his memories, floating through to her through their telepathic rapport are disjointed and none she's ever seen before, along with jumbled ones of Sinister. She knows Logan has one of a few things on his mind and none of them pleasant. She tries to stop him from taking her out further, as she noticed he's headed for the woods. He has his teeth sunk into her neck, the way an animal does with a mate, he must intend to have her and then, he'll kill her, or kill and then eat her, or maybe slit her throat and leave her for the rest of the animals to eat. She knows that Sinister would never let her die while she is of child bearing age, but there is the growing problem she feels pressed into her back.

"Logan! Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" She begs again in vain, but animals don't talk, and all she gets for an answer is a robust snarl. So she works to bust some of his false memories, because as any telepath knows, you can't change the mind of a wild creature. She manages to break one, thankfully, which has him throw her to the ground as he scatters off in a howl. She remembers that he was like this before and how terrifying that was to have the knowledge that a savage beast with the soul of a man ran free out in the woods, one that could completely obliterate you and never remorse about it. One that loved you and would do anything to have you, that can be a very chilling thing.

Jean knows from his garbled, and barely coherent thoughts, where he is headed. She knows he now has a taste for blood, and not just any blood, He's going to take out the one person he perceives as his enemy. The man who Logan, in his feral state sees as prey, the one who his broken mind sees as his biggest threat. Cyclops.

Logan has shed the last remains of the tattered clothes he had sported as he crosses Greymalkin Lane into the flora of the venerated old style mansion that he once lived, worked, loved and suffered in. He lifts his head to the wind to catch a scent, the smell of his sought quarry. The wisping breeze brings many odors and fragrances his way, some of meat roasting over a fire, some of children catching fireflies in the grass at this dusk hour. Then, there is HIM. There he is, barbecuing with his family, the blond he married, the children born to him out of that union, his older children, Cable and Rachel, born out of others, but Logan doesn't care. Cyclops is his. Logan makes a rush at him going as fast as his short, hairy legs can go, which is surprisingly fast, and lunges with claws out. He manages to make a deep, but not too entirely fatal contact across Scott's chest before being enveloped in a fiery telekinetic cocoon .

Everyone that was watching saw very little, save what looked like a large beast running in a blur, Scott had no time to protect himself, nor anyone else before getting struck down. Then, the screaming started.

"Scott!' Emma shrieks as she runs to his side. "Dad!" His younger children start crying as their half sister, Rachel tries to calm them down and keep them from hindering any sort of medical effort. Cable yells for anyone to find Hank and get Scott to the med lab. Scott himself is trying to take charge of his own rescue by ordering Jean to take Logan to the containment unit and telling people where to do what as he attempts to stand and walk with the blood that's running, but not squirting out of his chest. He attempts, but fails as he falls down woozy.

The Next Day, After the Stitches and Transfusions.

"I don't care what happened here, Emma! We are helping him and that's final!" Scott argues from his bed.

"Why, because the "Almighty" Scott said so? Are you trying so hard to follow in Charles footsteps that you fail to see that Logan attempted to kill you?" Emma countered. "Not to mention it lets HER back here."

"Don't ever mention Charles like that again, Emma. He was a good man, or have you forgotten the chance he took on you? There wouldn't be a we if not for him, and Jean hasn't said harsh word or otherwise to you since learning of our affair." He paused. " Besides, this isn't some attempt to get me back, even YOU should be able to see how much she loves Logan, they can barely keep their hands off each other! Remember how many telepath students we have having nightmares of those two?"

"How do we know she didn't sic him on you?" Emma retorted. "She could have easily altered his mind, I'm surprised he wasn't targeted at me! Is that what you want?"

"Because Betsy helped look Logan over, before Logan bit her, and she said that those implants were done without the use of a telepath. And Beast found the port where the chemicals were introduced, before he had to get Jean to put ten sutures in his arm. Scott informed her.

"What kind of idiot leaves a port that's not going to be used again in?" Emma sniffed haughtily.

"I think that Sinister means to use him again, particularly because he knows we would have several telepaths working to break the false memories." Scott conjectured.

"And you expect me to work on him? I think not!" Emma balked

"Betsy and Jean are taking this one. We all thought it best with your well known dislike of Jean and Logan, to stay out of this."

Cyclops was right, Emma should stay out of this. She storms out of the room in a huff, and he breathes a deep sigh as he knows what is coming next from that aggravating woman. But right now, he's tired and needs rest.

Part two later.