Dear X-Men fans

We all know they're not mine

Please read on and review…

Chapter 1

The jeep couldn't seem to go fast enough. Logan pressed harder on the gas pedal, going from 120kph to 150kph. Still, it would be another half hour before he made it to the mansion… that is, if he didn't crash somewhere first. He dared a glance to his right, to his passenger who seemed to be grinning like a maniac. He shook his head. The events that had lead to Victor sitting next to him in his jeep were nearly surreal…

LRLRLRLRLR

Logan hung up his cell. Xavier would be fine, he was in good hands. The barmaid before him brought another beer that he downed. He knew Victor was in the room, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Let him kill me. He hunched more in his seat, fingering the patch he'd put on his eye. Patch, they called him now. Another beer was brought, and he thanked her. He didn't know why he'd come here, in the Rockies. Sure, he had a small house built here, but still. "I haven't come back since… since she died…" He trailed off, taking a swing of his beer. He was controlling a part of his healing factor. It wasn't easy, but he was desperate to lose himself in the alcohol.

He could hear Victor and some of his low-life friends laughing somewhere in the back of the bar. He could smell his brother getting closer, but instead of being hit like he'd expected, the man merely sat on a seat next to him.

"If someone's going to kill you, least you could do is put up a fight." Victor said, too quietly for anyone else to hear. "It's no fun otherwise."

Logan heard. There was something different about his brother. A little less crazy. He just shook his head.

"Come on, Jimmy, let's play some pool. Loser buys beer."

It took about three games before he started to talk, the alcohol working its magic. Logan started with Xavier's health. He'd always had trouble seeing his friends start to grow old and die. "Can't separate his own thoughts anymore. Doctors say he's a schizophrenic, so I left him with Moira. No one knows. It's better they don't know."

A man walked in then, the wind pushing against the door and letting snow blow inside, as he tried to close it again. "A real storm's brewing out there!" He exclaimed, heading for the bartender.

Victor and Logan shared a small smile at that. They didn't think Storm was around, but still. Logan's smirk quickly disappeared though. "Antarctica." The word was whispered softly as he took a shot at a striped ball. It hit the number eight ball and he won the game.

"Antarctica?" Victor spoke a little louder. "That what's got you this down?"

Logan shrugged. He had a feeling Victor was up to something. They never spoke like this, not since… A memory came to mind. The day he'd left Striker's team because he'd had enough of the kill. Victor hadn't taken it well.

"This got something with the kid your friends left to die?" There was smirk in the voice that made Logan growl as he racked up the balls again.

"There something you want, bub?" Logan growled out, taking another pull of his beer.

Victor made his shot. Three of them found their way into the pockets. He was stripes again. "I decided I'd start my own group of mercenaries somewhere. Thought you could join in the fun, like old times?" He took a swing of his beer. Unlike Logan, though, it was obvious his healing factor was working.

Logan shrugged. "Not like I got much left anyway."

Victor stared at him a moment before smirking again. "You could always ask that pretty boy to join in. You know… the thief. I heard he crawled back to the mansion three months ago."

Logan froze in his shot, staring back at Victor to see for any signs of lies. There wasn't any. He dropped the pool stick and headed out, kicking his healing factor back online. He climbed into his jeep, Victor jumping in after him, a smug look on his face. After a quick stop to get their things, they were on the road.

LRLRLRLRLR

As they neared the mansion, Victor handed him a phone number before jumping out, saying he couldn't be caught with a bunch of white hats. Logan didn't care. His thoughts had only one name, one face, Remy's.

He parked his jeep in its usual place, running up the stairs to where Remy's room should be. It had taken him days to make it, and he wasn't going to miss another moment. As he approached Remy's room, the only one on the floor except his own, his senses told him something was wrong. Remy wasn't there. He frowned. He knew Victor hadn't lied to him and yet… He shook his head, making his way all around the mansion trying to pick up the sent. Nothing. It was late though, and he didn't want to wake up his teammates. He's probably out drinking, Logan thought, heading outside for a smoke. He hadn't decided what to tell Remy yet.

Looking out over the fresh snow, he spotted Bobby coming over from the distance. Logan frowned. There was nothing over there except the boathouse he'd stopped working on when Xavier had started getting severely ill. He heighted his senses. He could hear Bobby laughing about something, and then a phrase hit him like a rock. "Stupid thief, it's about time you froze to death."

Logan growled. Bobby hadn't seen him as he entered the mansion. Logan started running. He had a bad feeling about all of this. As he approached the boathouse, he picked up Remy's heartbeat. It was slowing. He picked up the pace.

He tried to open the door, but when it wouldn't budge he kicked it. He spotted Remy in front of the fireplace. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the fact that it had been frozen over. He picked up Remy, noticing how cold he was even wrapped up in his sheets. He was falling asleep and his heartbeat was slowing. Logan hurried to drag him outside, back to the mansion where it was safe. "Don't worry Gumbo, everything'll be fine, I promise. I'm back now. Won't leave ya again. Gonna take ya somewhere ya can get warm again. Ya'll be safe. I'll keep ya safe."

Logan headed for his room. Placing Remy on the bed, he removed the boots and trench-coat before pulling the sheets over the young man. He turned the thermostat up higher, around thirty Celsius, before sitting on a chair and tuning his hearing to Remy's heartbeat. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, even though he found the sudden heat unbearable. Remy needed it, though.

When Logan woke up, he took a moment to realise where he was. He smiled when he spotted Remy laying on his front, taking up the whole bed. He even had one of Logan's pillows in his arms. He shook his head, remembering why Remy wasn't in his own bed, but in Logan's. "Damn boathouse." He mumbled, stretching his sore muscles. He lowered the thermostat as he left the room, heading for the kitchen to talk some sense into his teammates.

When he entered the kitchen, he spotted Hank and Ororo chatting about some book. When they noticed him, Ororo stood up and hugged him. He could smell the sorrow pouring of her in waves. "Logan, it's so good to see you. You have to talk to Remy, make him see reason, please." She stepped back a little, and Logan frowned. This wasn't something he'd expected. "He's in the boathouse. I've tried to convince him to return here, where it's warm, but Jean said he doesn't want to see me. You're his best friend, Logan. Please talk to him, make him come back." She hugged him again, and Logan could smell the tears she was trying to hold back.

He took a seat at the table, looking to Hank to see which side he was on. The doctor shook his head. He smelt of sadness as well. "It must be very hard on him. What we did was unforgivable. The mere fact that Remy is willing to live on the grounds is a clear sign that he wishes to reintegrate our little mismatch family, but you have to understand, my dear, that it will take time for him to forgive us, even more to trust us again. Personally, I don't think we deserve any of his friendship. We can only try to show him that we do care for him. That is, after all, the reason why Scott has allowed him into the boathouse and does not wish us to pressure him into returning."

Logan growled. At Ororo's and Hanks's looks, he waved them off, showing it wasn't at them he was growling. "If you are upset with my brother…" Ororo started, defiantly as the door opened.

"Logan, it's good to see you back." He heard Jean speak as she entered together with Scott and Bobby.

Logan stood, blocking the kitchen door once they'd entered. "Can it, Red." Jean turned, surprise written on everyone's face. Logan shook his head. He loved her, but no one hurt what he considered his, and as far as he was concerned, Remy was his. "There's a few things I'd like to know. How about we start off with Remy? I hear he's back. How long's he been here?" He growled out, some of his rage surfacing. He could smell Remy make his way closer to them, but he wanted answers.

Scott frowned at him, a hand reaching up for his glasses just to be on the safe side. "What does it matter to you if he's back or not? It's not like you're ever around anyway." He bit back.

Logan growled and let his claws snick out before grounding out an answer, loudly. "What, you didn't think I'd like to know he was back, Cyke? And you stuff him in my boathouse? You got any idea how freezing it is in there? There's no insulation in that place yet!"

"I don't see what you're making such a big deal about, Logan?" Bobby sat on the counter, yawning like he didn't have a care.

"Shut-up Bobby." It was a growl, a fierce growl. "I'll deal with you later." His mind brought out an image of a frozen fireplace and Iceman murmuring about wanting Remy dead.

He took a deep breath, letting some of the tension out before he spoke again, much calmer. "I brought him back to the mansion, he's in my room. No one goes in without permission, got that? Kid needs warmth and sleep. Anyone got a problem with that?" He growled again to make his point, sending his blades back into his body with a snick.

Scott advanced on him, anger poring off in waves but at least he'd let go of his glasses. "Don't you talk to me like that, Logan! Have you forgotten what that thief did?"

Logan growled, remembering what he used to be, remembering what the Wolverine used to do with Sabertooth, and remembering how they'd started to get along again. "We all got dark pasts, Cyke, and sometimes they come back to kick us. You really think the Professor would be proud of you right now? Treating one of our own like that?"

He turned, no waiting for a reply. Slamming the door open, he grabbed Remy's arm a little more roughly than he'd wanted. He took a breath to calm himself as he lead Remy away from the team and the threat he could feel rising. "You're supposed to be in bed, kid." His tone was far gentler than before, and he felt a sort of self-satisfaction that Remy wasn't arguing.