It all began with a whisper and a scream. Both had been equally chilling each night Logan awakened in bed with his pulse pounding and body drenched in sweat. At first he'd simply tried to pretend that it wasn't any different than what he'd endured through the years at the hands of Stryker's torment, but with each passing day he knew it was worse—much worse. Guilt was the burden of the beast he would have to carry for eternity given that death was no longer an option in his world. Then again perhaps even death wouldn't absolve him of his sins. With each passing day that thought plagued him, haunting him in his waking hours while tormenting him in his dreams. He'd sat back and watched the world fall apart and now the nightmares were his penance. He would forever be plagued with them in knowing he could never bring them back. He'd failed them all.

With a labored breath Logan stretched his arm out across the bed reaching for the lamp he knew would be there. It was the same in every place he'd landed since he'd left the school behind, but it didn't take away the nightmares. Even now he was haunted by them in his tiny hotel room knowing full well that it was silly to be afraid of the dark. Hell, he'd never been afraid of anything before he'd failed the others except for the idea of being alive forever without a memory or warmth of a body to comfort him in those times when necessity called for it. Now, as he kicked his legs over the side of his bed, he realized that had changed. Fear was his constant companion and guilt his conscience in knowing that he could've prevented the outcome that had torn apart the only real stability he'd ever known in his life. The X-Men were no more. Life as he'd known it had ended.

After the Phoenix had found its way into his life everything was different. It was frightening and all-consuming until those final moments he'd been forced to take action and murder Jean. Closing his eyes he could feel the heat of her torment still burning inside of him. He could feel her pain and suffering. In his dreams he could sense her need for release when he'd given himself to her request in taking her under. Each night he replayed it in his mind torturing himself over and over for bringing her peace at the cost of his humanity. It plagued him. It ate away at what little was left of his tortured soul, yet with each passing day the memory only seemed to intensify and take him under into the burden of the beast that no other could carry. He killed Jean Grey. He'd single-handedly destroyed the woman that he and Scott had loved. He lived with the knowledge that he murdered the woman he once felt something for before she'd disappeared the first time. With each day he realized that there was no escaping the fact that he ended the life of the woman that everyone looked up to back at the school. At the time he watched her tear away everything he'd cared about, breaking it to pieces in her madness, yet in the end he was the one who had to finish it all. He had to do what no other was willing to do and it cost him everything. When it was over he convinced the others that there were finally free. He did his best to make him believe that the nightmare was over. In the aftermath he told them all that they had to move forward and find a way to keep pushing on even through the losses, but he had no idea how difficult that would truly prove to be for himself. After a few months of half-heartedly living with the notion that he would one day find peace, he gave in to the truth that he was simply deluding himself. Peace in his life was never an option.

"Son of a bitch," Logan cursed returning to the moment in his run down hotel room when his thick, clumsy fingers found their way to the lamp. He felt its base, but with an uneasy flick of his wrist he sent it crashing down to the floor.

"Figures," he mouthed to himself when he turned towards the oversized window in the dump he'd been calling home for the last few weeks. It wasn't anything like the school, but it served as a temporary place to rest his head while he was figuring things out. Then again he repeatedly said the same thing for the last two years at every other place he'd stopped at along the way on the road back to Canada.

"You don't have to leave Logan. In fact, we want you to stay," Ororo had tried to tempt him into pushing along and helping her at the school, but he'd ultimately declined. There was no place for him there anymore.

"We need you Logan," she'd appealed to him one last time before he packed up his bag and prepared to ride off on Scott's motorcycle into the world he'd stayed away from for far too long already.

"No you don't," he'd replied giving her a quick peck on the cheek, "You never really did. You've got this."

"It won't be the same without you," she'd replied tearfully when she realized he hadn't intended on changing his mind in leaving.

"With or without me it'll never be the same 'Ro," he'd simply stated turning his back to her as he prepared to face what life was life without those he'd lost.

"Don't think this means you have to stay away forever," she called out to him when he walked down the steps towards where he'd parked Scott's bike, "You might think leaving the answer is for now, but sooner or later I hope you change your mind. We'll always have a place for you here."

"Thanks," he muttered before getting on the bike and leaving Charles Xavier's dream behind him in favor of the open road. He left it all behind hoping to find that peace that had evaded him in a place where memories of what was surrounded him. He thought that it would lead to something more, to some kind of awakening and realization, but the further he drove away from the past the more he found himself surrounded by his old life with dirty bars and even dirtier women at his disposal. For a couple of weeks he'd considered giving in to the temptation and finding his way back to the man that he'd once been, but after the first failed attempt at taking a busty brunette back to his hotel room with him, he realized it was a lost cause.

"It's only temporary," he remembered thinking to himself when he'd ushered the woman out of his hotel room. She hadn't liked his dismissal, but he wasn't ready. He couldn't bring himself to seek out comfort in another's arms not after all he'd lost. He thought by reaching out to a woman that it wouldn't betray the bond he had with Scott, but almost as soon as he kissed her he knew it wasn't time. Not after he found himself thinking about the kisses that he craved for far too long only to lose them all too quickly on his road to redemption. He'd come so close to having it all only to have it ripped away from him and the sad truth was that a random warm body couldn't replace the damned sentiment in his heart. Man or woman he wasn't ready then. He just needed time.

"For now," he had told himself nearly two years ago when the wounds were still raw. He convinced himself that sooner or later he'd forget the taste and touch in the slice of heaven he greedily partook in back at the school.

After a while he eventually had given in to temptation in trying to move forward when he was taken to Japan in an attempt to feel something, but it hadn't worked out for him. Instead he simply found himself on his own again drinking endlessly in bars after nameless potential partners passed through his life leaving him even emptier than before. On his own the nights felt even longer, far emptier then he'd anticipated when he'd initially taken off in the hopes that he would one day lose the pain associated with the memory of the face he'd never touch again. He'd hoped to find a new reason in life, but his mind served as a painful reminder of the life he could never have. He'd be forever haunted by the memory of the man he could never tease or caress again. He'd never find a moment of peace with that contented sigh that fell upon Scott's lips after his lover had fallen to rest in his arms. With each day the misery grew, but the memory never faded, never left him when he found himself consumed by the very idea of a man he'd never be able to hold again.

"Scott," he mouthed to himself knowing only too well that no one would answer his silent request to be reunited with his lover again. Instead he was left to wallow in his misery while the rest of the world was still asleep, blissfully unaware of the demons that Logan had kept buried deep for far too long inside of himself. Now they seemed to revel in their torment, taking him to places he swore he'd never be when he thought to the dream that haunted him each night. Closing his eyes again he could feel the fire—could almost taste the flames when they engulfed him in threatening to tear his sanity away from him. He could see the blackness in Jean's eyes, could feel her fury and torment when he'd stabbed her, but what was worse were the visions that haunted him each night. They took him from her death to another place surrounded by fog and haze, back to Alkali Lake where he'd sought out Scott in a panic only to come up empty.

"Scott," Logan mouthed closing his eyes and thinking about his nightmare. Each time they started with Jean's demise, working him back to the lake, back to that moment when Logan had held out hope that Scott was still out there.

"He's gone," Ororo had deduced after they'd discovered Jean at the lake, but Logan hadn't been so convinced. He'd been certain that Scott had to have been out there somewhere waiting to be rescued, but then his hopes and dreams had come crashing down when he'd seen Scott's glasses through the fog. They'd practically floated to him in the midst of chaos, coming to him like a siren song when Logan had found himself filled with hope that Scott was nearby. He'd wanted to believe that there was something more—that there was something deeper happening, but when the glasses shattered with Jean's grip on her sanity he'd been faced with a deeper, more profound, devastating truth.

"He's gone," Logan mouthed with a tiny shudder as he forced himself to push the memory aside. It was always there replaying in his mind, haunting him in his dreams, but tonight things had been different. Tonight things were darker, more horrifying when he pushed his way off of the bed to walk over to the wooden window frame.

On the way he stopped off at the table where he'd set a case of beer earlier in the night. With the humidity that surrounded him in the sweltering hotel room, Logan knew they would taste like warm piss, but he didn't care. He needed something to do now because he couldn't sleep. He wouldn't sleep when the dream consumed him once again. Even now he felt shivers overtake him, creeping in over his body when he thought of the visions in his mind. He could feel the fog and the scent of death in the air surrounding him even in the waking hours. The visions attempted to pull him back to the worst point in his life with Jean's torment. Each night she came to him, taunting him endlessly over what he'd done chastising him for his actions. For a brief while she'd stopped, but it was only a small reprieve when she returned to him again. Each night she took him from his solitude to memories of the he'd made a life for himself at the school only to watch it fall apart. In the dream she lingered in the haze bringing about madness and confusion when he'd been back at Alkali Lake watching the world explode around him. It caused him to tense up and shudder in his dream when he could hear Jean whispering in his ear.

"I'm all alone Logan," she taunted each night, bringing her words deep into his subconscious, "You did this!"

"Jean, I'm sorry," he could recall himself explaining to her each time the dream entered his mind. He'd tried so hard to forgive himself, to have her forgiveness, but over time he simply surrounded himself with her wrath.

"You stole him from me. You took it all Logan," she continued to lash out at him, "If you won't join me, then maybe he will."

"Jean no," Logan had shouted out watching as she walked away from him. She turned her back to him when he reached out to touch her shoulder,"Please don't take him away from me again!"

"You've already lost him Logan," Jean whispered darkly when she stepped out of his reach, "We both know that."

"No!" Logan replied when another voice echoed in his mind.

"Save him!" he could hear the ghost of Charles calling out to him, prompting Logan to leave the place with Jean in order to follow another instinct inside of him. There was a pull guiding him away from his guilt, leading him towards a new mission when the scene around him shifted, "Find him Logan!"

"He's gone," Logan had replied somberly.

"Come with me Logan," Jean ordered returning to him when she stretched her hand out to him, "It's time."

"Jean," Logan sighed turning to chase the phantom of the woman he'd destroyed, but each night before he could see her eyes he'd heard a scream in the distance pulling him away from Jean. He felt the terror seeping down deep into his soul causing him to lose sight of the truth he'd known. It was sharp and penetrating, deep and terrified when he turned to the water immediately recognizing the sound.

"Scott!" Logan had shouted in his dreams hoping to find a way to hold onto the man he'd lost if only in his sleep, but the screams intensified, growing more desperate, more urgent until finally Logan awakened with his heart racing and mind fearful for the pain Scott had endured in his ending. It taunted him, reminded him of his shortcomings when the sad reality was that he hadn't been able to save the man he loved. He'd tried. Hell, there wasn't a day he hadn't wanted to go back and change everything about their ending, but like a stubborn fool he'd left Scott leave without so much as a goodbye.

"Not everybody heals as fast as you, Logan," he could still hear Scott's final words inside of him taking him back to all the times when he tried to change things for Scott.

After Jean's death Logan had wanted things to be different. He'd needed them to be different when he'd found himself met by surprising feelings for the man he'd dubbed a 'dick' early on. He and Scott had been reluctant to admit what was happening, but soon Logan knew. His attraction to Scott had gone beyond an obsessive need to bed the Boy Scout that had infuriated him to no end. What started as sex and comfort had evolved into a sentiment both he and Scott had been reluctant to delve into with the world around them.

"This changes everything you know," Scott had whispered one night after they'd found their way back into Logan's room, tangled up in blankets and each other's arms. It hadn't been the first night that they'd ended up seeking comfort in one another's arms, but it had been the first time they'd been honest about what was happening after their various trips to the Danger Room to tear one another apart in ways none of the others had known about. Each time it had been harder to leave, to ignore the way it felt to have Summers over him gasping for breath and holding on as if letting go simply wasn't an option. Each night they lingered a little bit longer when the need intensified growing into something that Logan hadn't anticipated. Something changed. Something had shifted inside of Logan taking him from the reluctant soldier to a man with a cause and a purpose in his life. With Scott Summers whatever it was it had become a reason for living again—for wanting to have a future at the school with the man he'd once dubbed impossibly rigid.

"I know," Logan had simply responded that night with Scott in his arms. He'd resigned himself to the silence in enjoying Scott wrapped up in his embrace. It seemed right with Scott stretched out across Logan's chest gingerly fingering the thick, dark hair over Logan's damp skin. It was the first time that Logan realized that Cyclops was right. Everything had changed. It had gone from violent and intense to surprisingly tender and wonderful. When Scott had suggested they try dinner and conversation Logan had been apprehensive in being convinced it was going to be a deal breaker, but instead what followed was the one thing he'd never anticipating finding again after years of loneliness. Somewhere during the night from the kitchen to Logan's bedroom with Scott's leg draped in between his thighs Logan had found the one thing that he'd convinced himself he could live without. Love.

"I'm not suggesting that we walk around telling anyone we're going steady or anything," Scott half teased in that same characteristic uncertainty that had surrounded him when their relationship came up in conversation, "but given this thing we've got going, well, maybe it's time we agree that this becomes more permanent."

"Permanent," Logan repeated while fighting to suppress his natural instinct to tease Scott. Instead he curled his arm around Scott's waist drawing him in tighter against his chest, "As in a mutually beneficial, sexually exclusive satisfying situation between you and me on a nightly basis?"

"I was thinking about perhaps extending it into the day as well Logan," Scott raised his chin up to meet Logan's features behind those ruby red glasses, "I know I told you that I wasn't sure I was ready to move on, but…"

"What?" Logan inquired when Scott propped himself up on his elbows to look down at Logan.

"As much as I loved Jean I feel like she understands what's happening here," Scott divulged quietly. He took in a nervous breath, his eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses when he forced himself to tip his head down towards Logan again, "She would want us to be happy again."

"With each other?" Logan inquired raising a speculative brow when Scott touched the side of his face.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I want this to be real Logan," Scott divulged with the certainty in his voice that had been missing since the day that Jean had sacrificed herself at the lake in leaving them behind, "I don't want to waste time pretending that this is something it's not. I want something more."

"So do I Slim," Logan had confessed wrapping Scott up in his arms before tossing him onto the mattress again beneath him. Carefully he'd balanced his weight over Scott, taking his time to memorize Scott's chiseled features, to think about the lush lips he'd devoured time and time again. It had been enough to get his heart pumping and have his mind full of sinful notions that they'd often indulged in their time alone together, yet through it all there was something deeper growing inside of him, "I've known it for a while…long before we started this together. You're the only reason I stayed."

"Logan," Scott had spoken his name undoubtedly in the name of convincing Logan that simply wasn't the case. However, instead of allowing Scott to argue with him, Logan had merely kissed him again crushing Scott's body with a newfound determination to cover the words he'd feared he would say with a physical response that wasn't nearly as revealing as what had been in his heart. Time and time again he would recall that night, would remember the words he hadn't whispered to Scott to comfort him when all he'd wanted was to revel in the strange feeling that had surrounded him.

"And you never got the chance to say them, did you?" a voice inside of his head reminded him when he pushed the curtain aside to look out into the parking lot. It was a full moon, bright and haunting, but it did nothing to erase the darkness inside of Logan when his thoughts returned to the dream.

"Find him Logan," a voice continued to taunt him, to draw him into madness as he replayed every moment of the day they'd lost Scott. Time and time again he'd sought out a different ending, hoping to find another way to erase what had happened, but when he'd wound up empty he'd known it was a dead end. After he'd witnessed Charles losing himself to Jean's madness, he'd realized what Scott's fate had been. Logan had lost him and there was no turning back. He'd come to accept that, but then the dreams started.

Each night Logan was taunted by his actions, tormented by Jean's ending, but it was Scott's screams that had terrified him. They'd done him in when he'd found himself immersed in endless torture, in blood and violence feeling Scott begging for reprieve. In Logan's dreams Scott was out there somewhere, lost inside of his own personal hell, wrapped up in torment and if it hadn't been for Jean's words Logan would've dismissed the dreams as his subconscious. However, tonight the dream had been different than the others. Tonight there had been an isolated area surrounded by trees and a building overrun with the scent of fear and terror. He could see it clearly through the fog. He could hear the cries inside when a storm surrounded the trees keeping those inside captive to the torture that surrounded them. The voices grew louder, the screams more desperate until that moment when he saw Scott on his knees bound and broken at the hands of men like William Stryker who were prepared to make their kind disappear. His face was sunken in, his cheekbones hollow and shaky while his skin was pale, much paler than Logan had remembered. He'd been bleeding, trapped inside of the hell that had engulfed him. With each step Logan had taken towards him, he'd realized Scott was trapped, locked inside of the prison with no hope for reprieve. He was near the end…almost ready to give up hope when Logan called out to him.

"Scott," he had roared attempting to make his way through the storm and fog, to save Scott much like he'd failed to before, but he was so far away.

"Logan?" Scott weakly questioned in the dream raising his head up to reveal his split lip and bandaged eyes. He was slimmer than Logan had remembered merely skin and bones, but there was something behind his expression that Logan had recognized.

"I'm coming for you," Logan had promised attempting to claw his way through the army that held Scott captive and away from him. With each rip and tear Logan had found himself surrounded by blood, lost in a sea of chaos until finally he'd reached the room that Scott was in. The door was slightly ajar, revealing just how weak Scott was until finally it slammed shut and Jean's voice taunted him.

"You're too late!" she hissed as Logan had been jolted from his slumber, forced to face the reality of the world he now surrounded himself with.

Now as he looked down to the warm beer in his hand, he found himself wishing that things had been different, but it was that glimpse of Scott that had really haunted him. It was Scott's face that had shaken him up more than anything. Each night he'd heard the screams. He'd felt Scott's terror, but tonight when he'd seen Scott everything had changed. Unlike the last time they'd been together Scott was in a new kind of torment. He was aching in ways that Logan hadn't known and yet…

"He felt so real," Logan mouthed when he turned his attention to the moon again. It called to him, pulling him from his solitude when he discarded the empty beer bottle. The walls of his room were once again suffocating causing him to simply reach for a t-shirt and his jeans. He slipped into them ready to take a walk, to clear his head somehow and banish the overwhelming images of Scott in torment. If he could only erase the agony and blood from his mind, then perhaps he'd find peace. Perhaps he could go a night without the torture, without the regret and fear of never feeling anything again, but loss. Then again maybe if he could walk it off long enough maybe he'd simply give way to exhaustion in his mind somehow making him too tired to dream.

Moving out into the night Logan thought about the dump he'd visited earlier in the week. It was open all night and catered mostly to biker gangs and prostitutes in the area seeking out some kind of companionship. It was loud and obnoxious much like the bars Logan had frequented in the past before he'd found his way to the school. Now as he looked to Scott's bike, he found himself leaving it behind in order to walk towards the bar hoping to gain some clarity and insight in his solitude.

Moving down the dirt path away from the hotel Logan could distinctly hear the sound of metal music playing far before he'd spotted the building. Even now at such a late hour the bar was still going strong, undoubtedly bringing in a significant amount of revenue for the owner in the hell Logan had surrounded himself with. Beyond the bar there was a gas station and the open road providing an easy escape for someone who hadn't wanted to be found. It was the perfect place for Logan, but still with thoughts of Scott lingering on his mind Logan opted to keep pushing forward, to find himself a seat at the bar to drink away the nagging guilt inside of him.

"Whoa, back up!" he heard a voice from inside the bar shout out when a man stumbled out of the bar into the parking lot. He fell on his face with a woman moving behind him at a frenzied pace.

"I'm still going to get my money, right?" she questioned crouching down to discover that the man was unconscious. In a moment of survival and panic she reached into the man's pocket to pull out his wallet. Opening it up she collected all of the money that was inside of it, tucking it into the front of her shirt when she looked up to see Logan standing in front of her. For a moment panic crept over her features, her brown eyes filled with worry when Logan merely turned in the opposite direction making his way into the bar when she woman rushed off into the night hoping to avoid being seen again with her big score.

"I'll have another," a voice near the left of the bar explained when Logan heard the pounding of fists on top of the bar. He merely kept moving forward satisfied to discover that the spot he'd taken residence upon the last time he'd visited the bar was still available. Saying nothing Logan perched upon the barstool raising his chin up to look at the old black and white television on the wall. It was a sign that modern times hadn't hit this particular area when the bar was behind on technology, yet Logan found he hadn't minded when the static on the screen reminded him of a simpler time.

"I knew you'd be back," the blonde waitress behind the bar approached him with a wide grin, "Your type always is."

"Excuse me?" Logan gave her a look when he shifted on the barstool once again.

"I wouldn't sit there much longer if I were you," she replied tending to something behind the bar when Logan gave her a strange look, "Trust me."

"Why?" Logan eyed her curiously.

"Just a feeling," she shrugged as Logan felt the weight of her eyes upon him. He contemplated her words for a few seconds before grudgingly moving to the barstool beside the one he'd been seated in a few seconds earlier.

"I'll have…" Logan began when she set down a mug of beer in front of him.

"…a beer," she finished with a wink, "Yeah, I realized you had an affinity for them the other night."

"Thanks," Logan grunted reaching for the handle on the mug. He raised the glass to his lips taking it down in one, long sip before sliding the mug towards her again, "I'll take another."

"Rough night?" she questioned when he pulled a few dollars out of his pocket to slide across the bar.

"No," Logan answered turning his attention to the television set once again.

"You're not like the others in here, are you?" she attempted to continue a conversation with him, but Logan wasn't in the mood.

"Not really," he shrugged reaching for the beer when she'd brought him a refill. Looking up he could see the way she was watching him expectantly as if he would somehow reveal his life story to the woman before him. Giving her a long once over he suspected that was common place at the bar with the men who frequented it. She was young and pretty enough for those parts to capture attention, yet her eyes spoke volumes about the pain she'd put behind her even in her youth. She'd clearly experienced life in ways Logan could empathize with, but tonight wasn't about empathy. It wasn't about anything other than forgetting the dream long enough to fall into exhaustion.

"You don't talk much, do you?" she questioned reaching for a rag and wiping on top of the bar.

"You talk too much. Has anyone ever told you that?" Logan remarked with a sneer.

"Almost every damn day," she laughed much lighter than he'd anticipated in his abrasiveness.

"Hmph," Logan grunted again before focusing on the television once again. It seemed to do the trick as the woman walked away to tend to another biker who was seeking out her attention. Her absence was short-lived however when she returned to join him once again.

"I'm getting out of here in about ten minutes," she announced perhaps too eagerly when he raised a less than interested brow, "What do you say you and I get out of here together?"

"Excuse me?" Logan questioned with a frown in seeing her blue eyes upon him.

"I have a place not far from here," she reached out across the bar suggestively, "There's a storm coming on the horizon and I'd prefer not to spend it alone if you know what I mean."

"I'm not interested," Logan attempted to pull his hand away from her when her fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist.

"It's not what you think," she began again with a sudden urgency in her tone.

"Like I said I'm not interested," Logan's scowl intensified when she squeezed her fingers tighter around his wrist.

"Not even for Scott?" she questioned as Logan looked at her once again with a sudden interest.

"What did you just say?" he replied when she released him.

"You're seeking out answers," she noted standing up taller and meeting his eyes again with a newfound determination, "and I can give them to you. What you think you know isn't how things are."

"Who are you?" Logan asked wearily.

"A friend perhaps," she explained bending down to reach for something behind the bar, "That is if you're interested in playing nice."

"What do you know about Scott?" Logan questioned leaning in closer to her when she stood up to meet his eyes again.

"He's still out there," she informed him with a slur in her words, "but you'll never find him in a place like this. Come home with me Logan."

"How did you know my…?" Logan's eyes widened with surprise.

"I know a lot more about you than you think, but if you don't follow me home you'll never know the truth you're seeking out," she encouraged him once again with a hint of darkness in her tone, "The choice is yours."

"Who are you?" he questioned watching her smile expand even further through the haze in the bar.

"I'm the woman who can help you find the man you love even if he himself isn't aware of that emotion just yet," she informed him brightly with a shake of her long, blonde hair, "He's still out there Logan, but let's face it. You already were aware of that, weren't you?"

"But…" he began as she turned on her heel to walk away from him.

"The dreams were a sign," she explained when her eyes seemed to darken before him, "They were a warning of things to come Logan."

"How did you know about the…?" he blinked back at her as he found himself wondering if he was yet again trapped inside of a nightmare.

"Dreams can be windows to our soul. They unlock our deepest, darkest desires and fears, but beyond that…they also have a way of showing us what reality holds in store for us in ways that we could never wrap our brains around in the waking hours. Come on," she offered up suggestively, "It's getting late and we really don't have much time."

"Look lady I'm not going to just blindly follow you to…" Logan began rising up off of the barstool and turning away from the bar. As he moved forward he noticed a burly looking man moving in to take the seat he'd originally been in before the bartender's suggestion had lead him to another seat. Almost as soon as the man sat down the barstool crumbled to pieces sending the man to the floor beside him.

"I told you it wasn't smart to sit there," the blonde bartender explained curling her arm in his urgently, "Come with me Logan. The answers are right around the corner."

xxxxx

"We don't have much time," Logan's companion explained pushing open the driver's side door to the sedan she'd been driving in once Logan had followed her back to an old farm house. Unlike the other places in the area this home was surrounded by a thick, iron wall on the perimeter closed off from the world around it when she'd tapped her fingers on a keyboard to open up the main gate to allow them access to the property. At first Logan had been reluctant to follow wondering if he was setting himself up for some kind of trap, but once she motioned for him to drive up behind her to the house that was waiting for them he'd followed. Unlike the military grade security system that seemed to be surrounding them the home in itself was rather plain looking. It was green with burgundy colored shutters and a chipped wooden front door.

"We'll have to hurry," she explained walking over to Scott's motorcycle once Logan had turned it off, "We need to beat the storm."

"What storm?" Logan looked to the sky above them in seeing that the night's descent into morning was simply calm and peaceful as it had been most of the week.

"It's a bad one that shouldn't be taken too lightly," she replied turning her back to him. With a hurried step she moved towards the front door to the farm house not bothering to look behind her to see if Logan was following. In watching her he knew that he should be weary, but with the thought of Scott enticing him, he'd simply trotted along hoping to have a more in depth response to her cryptic wording earlier in the evening.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," she spoke up as if she'd read his thoughts in the moment, "but I can promise you the answers will become clearer once we are inside."

"What did you say your name was again?" he raised a curious brow when she stepped into the darkened living room.

"I didn't," she clarified with a thick, determined annunciation in her voice, "but since you're curious I'm Holly."

"Holly," he repeated giving her a long once over. He watched her peel her black jacket away from her shoulders to reveal her faded black leather pants and matching leather vest she'd worn to the bar, "Tell me what it is you think you know about Scott."

"I'll do you one better," she glanced over her shoulder to curl her finger at him. Her dark eyes filled with something Logan couldn't quite read when she turned around again to move down a long, darkened hallway away from the main room, "I'll show you."

"Show me what?" Logan responded wearily moving in behind her. Looking at her he realized that she wasn't nearly large enough to overpower him physically, yet in thinking about the others he'd faced in the past he was still on edge.

"The answers you're seeking out," she replied when a hint of laughter carried over her voice, "Relax Logan. There's not an army waiting for you at the end of the hallway. No one is waiting behind closed doors to abduct you and steal your life away from you again. We don't work like that here."

"What?" he questioned stopping when she spun around to face him once again.

"I'm not planning to attack you. That isn't why I brought you here with me tonight," she explained placing her hands on her hips, "You have nothing to be afraid of."

"I ain't afraid of you," Logan fought to contain the laughter that build up in the back of his throat, "You couldn't possibly weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds at most."

"It's not my weight you should be concerned about," she replied when her eyes shifted turning to a glowing pink shade. They flickered for a moment revealing something darker before she blinked and they returned to normal again.

"You're a mutant," Logan realized watching her reach out for the doorknob behind where she stood.

"I am," she explained simply twisting the knob and allowing the door to slide open into darkness, "and a mutual friend has called upon me to see to it that you found your way back to the farmhouse with me. He wanted me to deliver a message that he felt you'd understand."

"Scott?" Logan questioned when he looked beyond where she stood to peer into the darkness before him. He raised his chin up taking a whiff of the air around him when another familiar scent lingered in the room beyond where he stood, "Chuck."

"Charles Xavier let me know that you'd be here soon. He instructed me to find a way to that bar because you would soon join us in our cause," she stepped aside to allow him access to the room. Immediately he rushed forward thinking about the man he'd watched Jean destroy all those years ago. However, much to his surprise and confusion Charles lay before him on a small bed attached to hospital machines. There was an IV line in his arm as he remained motionless before Logan as if he'd been that way for quite some time in the darkened room that surrounded him, "He's confident that you're the key to saving us all Logan."

"How is he…?" Logan's eyes widened with astonishment.

"As I said before what you think you know isn't necessarily how it is," Holly stated simply, "What you experienced in Jean's madness wasn't nearly as damning as you perceived it to be. Things are a deep contrast to the realities you've surrounded yourself with over the last couple of years."

"What would you know about my life?" Logan couldn't help, but snarl when he glanced over at her once again.

"I know that you've been miserable—that you've been tortured by dreams and desires over a life you felt fate cheated you out of," she explained drawing in a breath, "I know that there isn't a night that goes by when you aren't thinking about Scott—where you are able to find peace because without him there's been a void inside of you expanding over time."

"How could you…?" Logan began with a frown.

"Know all of this? Let's just say I've been able to read people rather well through the years," she paused when the small smirk on her features faded away into sudden seriousness. She further explained in joining him in the room, "but that's not why I brought you here tonight. We need your help Logan."

"What's happened to Charles?" Logan questioned stepping beside the bed to see Scott's mentor in a state of unconsciousness, "Why is he like this?"

"He wasn't always this way. He was actually very cohesive for a while…that is before we were attacked a while ago. They did this to him," Holly added with an uneasy sounding voice, "In an attempt to stop him from saving our kind they put him in this position, but they won't succeed in stopping him. They refuse to allow us freedom to live our lives, but we can't let them destroy the dream he's worked so hard to make happen for our kind. They can't win."

"Who are they?" Logan inquired turning his attention to her again.

"They call themselves by many names, but at the heart of it all they are a group of anti-mutant terrorists that did this to him," she explained moving to the opposite side of the bed to reach for Charles' hand. She squeezed his hand gently before raising her chin up to look at Logan again, "They did this to him a few weeks ago when they invaded our camp not far from here. We thought we were safe, but we were wrong. None of us were sure how they'd found us, but when they did Charles was trying to protect us all when they arrived. We tried to reason with them, but they wouldn't have it. They weren't interested in hearing our voices when all they were prepared for was war and violence. When we realized there was no reasoning with them, we tried to flee, but there were too many of them at the time. We were blindsided by their attack and…"

"We?" Logan questioned when there was a sound in the hallway. He turned his eyes towards the sound when he noticed a tiny purple skinned girl standing in the doorway with teddy bear print pajamas on. She seemed uncertain, weary of Logan's presence when Holly curled her finger to motion for the girl to join them.

"It's alright Violet," Holly coaxed the girl on further, "He's a friend."

The petite dark haired girl seemed satisfied with Holly's answer when she quickly moved to Holly's side. Her tiny arms immediately clasped around Holly's leg in a desperate grip when Holly bent down to scoop Violet into her arms instead.

"It's okay sweetheart," Holly kissed the small girl's head gently.

"Mommy, I had the dream again. The bad men were coming here to take me away. They were holding big guns and…" Violet explained tearfully.

"It was just a nightmare baby," Holly kissed the small girl's head again before looking over at Logan, "If you could just give us a second."

"Of course," Logan nodded watching as Holly took Violet out of the room to speak with her privately. In Holly's absence Logan refocused on the bed in seeing Charles laid out before him. Suddenly everything he thought he knew about the world around him had changed opening up the door to possibilities he hadn't thought possible a few days earlier. Moving in closer to Charles he let out a long sigh as he spoke up again, "What have you gotten yourself into Chuck?"

xxxxx

"I'm sorry about that," Holly announced returning to the room with Logan and Charles, "She hasn't been the same since our camp was attacked. She's always afraid that they are coming back to get her after she saw what happened to the others."

"She's your daughter?" Logan noted watching her nod.

"She's six," Holly replied with a small smile, "and if it wasn't for Charles finding us when he did I don't know where we'd be right now. He's been an inspiration to us all over the last year. He's a good man with such wonderful dreams."

"What's wrong with him?" Logan questioned turning his attention to Charles again.

"They injected him with something. There was a man with a gun and he pointed it at Charles, but there weren't bullets in it. There was something else—some kind of drug that put him in this position," Holly added with a small sigh, "He was trying to make them go away. He tried to use his powers to urge them to listen to reason and simply leave us alone, but for some reason they were immune to his powers. Instead they were beyond reasoning with. When they refused to back down it was clear none of us were safe. He was caught in the crossfire like so many others that…"

"What?" Logan inquired.

"He didn't stand a chance," she divulged with a tiny shudder, "They knew what he was and were ready to take him down without hesitation. It was as if they had insight on what they were facing and countermeasures in position to prevent him from making an impact."

Logan remained silent turning his attention to Charles again. In the moment he found himself remembering the last time he'd seen the man before him at Jean's childhood home lost in a moment of madness when she'd unleashed all the fury and chaos Phoenix had upon him in shattering him apart with rage. He'd ceased to exist in those devastating moments when Logan had watched Jean rip him apart, yet as he lay on the bed Logan realized he'd been wrong. What his eyes had seen in his horror had somehow come undone when he focused on the man before him.

"It was awful," Holly replied tearfully breaking through Logan's thoughts, "None of us saw what was coming. We thought we were safe at the camp, but we weren't. They knew we were all there and they were waiting for the right moment to attack when we were more vulnerable."

"Where did they come from?" Logan questioned tipping his head to the side and eyeing her closely.

"I don't know. Charles didn't either because as I told you they were using something to block our powers. It was as if they had methods of keeping us all out—from discovering the truth, but he and Scott were determined to…" Holly began to explain herself.

"Scott," Logan repeated feeling the breath catch in the back of his throat at the mention of the man he'd thought he lost in his life. Giving her a long once over her contemplated her words.

"That's right," Holly nodded, "Scott was with us as well before the attack. He was working with Charles to help keep us safe, but…"

"How is that possible?" Logan couldn't help, but question when he thought of the dreams that had haunted him over the last two years.

"You never believed him to be dead. A part of you always held out hope that Scott was still alive, did you not?" she inquired giving him a long, thorough once over.

"I saw what Jean did to Chuck," Logan replied simply.

"Yet you stand here before me seeing the proof that things weren't as you believed them to be," she paused giving heavy emphasis to her words, "Seeing isn't necessarily reason for believing in every situation. Yes, you might've watched Charles in those moments, but there was never any closure with Scott. That's why you left the school because a part of you always believed that Jean hadn't destroyed him in her madness. A part of you never wanted to believe that was how he'd met his ending…"

"How do you know about Jean?" Logan questioned wearily when she moved around the room in a slow, uneasy moment.

"I know a lot about things that most people wouldn't understand," Holly's eyes returned to the bed again, "Scott spoke of her in our talks as did Charles. They both cared deeply for her in spite of what you all endured."

"If you know what we endured, then surely you must realize that…" Logan began trying to process his thoughts when Holly reached for Charles' hand once again.

"Charles told me that you'd be here searching for Scott eventually. He knew that sooner or later you'd realize Scott was still here and when you did you'd find your way to him. You'd endure hell if need be to bring him back to you once you picked up on his presence," she hesitated before glancing over at him once again, "Granted I saw it myself, but…"

"What do you mean you saw it?" Logan asked watching her closely.

"My powers guided me to finding you long before Charles assured me you would be here," she paused when hesitance flashed over her features, "I have this way about me that, well, you see when I was quite young my birth mother died. My father wasn't in the picture so when I was adopted I didn't realize I was a mutant. No one did. It wasn't until I was a teenager that my powers manifested. At first it started with me having an intuition about things like if someone misplaced their keys or their wallet I knew where they could find it without having been there to see where they'd left it. At other times I could predict the weather, but then it grew. It escalated to me being able to read other people's thoughts and…"

"You're a telepath," Logan noted as she nodded again.

"I can also see glimpses of the past and the future," she explained poignantly when tension carried over her features, "Parts of it at least. It comes to me in visions at times with a flash of images like a snapshot in a camera. Not everything is always clear, but when I see it, well, it lets me know what to expect. Sometimes I can't quite read what is happening until it's too late like with what happened at the camp. I didn't know that they were coming for us until we were all out of options."

"Why were you in a camp?" Logan asked as he looked to her fingers curled over Charles' in a protective squeeze.

"We were hiding from those who were willing to hurt us. Out here things were different than they have been in the states, but they haven't been far behind. With the rumors of the Mutant Registration Act around the corner in congress again, we all knew that it was a matter of time before they started to collect us as they've done in the past with others they felt were different. It was already beginning in our daily lives with the division between human and mutant in the public eye. Terror was growing and hate was expanding into something awful. Some of us wanted to believe that it would eventually die down, but the fear only grew stronger. People were uncertain of what would happen to them if our kind was able to exist freely in these parts. As I'm sure you're well aware of this isn't exactly a place where we have all the modern luxuries of a city. People are set in their ways and respond to a mob mentality when prompted to react," she explained drawing in a breath, "For a while it was simply talk, but then about six months ago there was some trouble with a mutant who had attacked a young woman on her way home from work. He slashed her up rather bad after she'd rejected him and her father was a prominent politician. The case went to trial, but became more of a witch hunt than anything else. In his inability to help his daughter he made it his mission to attack all of our kind. His shouts only sparked a panic and…"

"Chaos followed," Logan frowned taking in her words.

She nodded, "At first I thought that my family would be safe, but then I had a vision of the future."

"What kind of vision?" Logan inquired watching her shudder at the memory.

"War," she explained drawing in a breath, "we were going to experience the pains of a war that we weren't equipped to battle in."

"You ran away from it before it hit your area," Logan finished knowingly.

She tearfully nodded again, "My neighbors were mutants who were in their late sixties. They lived a simple life and refused to leave with us even with my warnings. They never bothered anyone, but they had their house burned down to the ground by a hate group in the area. After that we all knew that we were no longer safe in our homes so we took refuge with one another. The world rejected and condemned us for being different, so we fled."

"You left your lives behind you?" Logan questioned with a small frown.

She nodded, "That's how we met Charles. After the attacks on our neighborhood I took on a position at a hospital to help the others like us who had been forced to leave their homes as we had. Before the chaos I'd trained as a nurse and I was able to use that to help others. Shortly after we put together our hospital we were running low on supplies so I wound up working for a short period of time at a place not far from where we'd relocated in order to get what we needed. Charles was a patient that was brought in while I was working there. He was in a coma at the time when he and I first began communicating with one another. I don't know how he was able to reach out to me at first, but he sensed my presence. He could speak through me and we discussed the state of affairs with one another. He saw what we were running from and told me of his own struggles through the years. At first I thought I was crazy, but the more we communicated with one another the deeper our connection was. I knew he was like me and I also realized that could be dangerous for him. After a few weeks of working there I had a vision of the future where they were coming after him as the next target to send a message. People were looking for him hoping to destroy him and that's when I realized we had to help him. Even in his weakened state he needed to be out of that hospital away from their agenda. I knew he wasn't safe there after I had my visions. My husband and I took him in, helped nurse him back to health and…"

"What?" Logan inquired.

"That's when Scott arrived," she explained smoothly, "He found us as Charles had anticipated he would. Even though they weren't able to speak to one another without my assistance in the beginning I was able to help them communicate with one another. Charles explained the dire nature of our situation to Scott and over time they both came to want to be a part of our cause. Scott was so strong and determined. Even after Charles found his voice Scott was driven by a need to protect our people. He promised to help save us from what we'd endured—to somehow make the dream Charles had for the future happen for our children."

"Where is he?" Logan questioned thinking about the possibility of Scott being alive. He turned to Charles again feeling his mind overtaken by a great many questions.

"Charles realized you'd want to know that Scott was still alive. Scott knew it as well. He wanted to tell you he was here Logan, but Charles counseled him on the necessity of the mission at hand. He said it was too dangerous to involve you or the other X-Men at this point. It was something the two of them were working on together that…"

"Where is he?" Logan repeated again with a growing impatience.

"He's gone," Holly informed him with a deep pain in her voice, "After the attack on our camp some of our people were murdered. Others were taken. As I said we were blindsided. Charles was with us at the time, but others were not. Scott had gone out with a group of our people hoping to investigate the threats in the area and bring back others like us. Unfortunately when they were gone that's when the group chose to attack us. They stole so many things from us that day Logan. What they did to Charles was devastating, but beyond that…so many of us will never recover from the horror they inflicted upon us. When Scott and the others returned to the camp they found out what happened. They learned about those of us who were taken away and…"

"Scott went out there to save them," Logan deduced when she nodded again.

"He led a group with my husband to go rescue the others," Holly sighed as tension carried over her posture, "That was over two weeks ago Logan. None of them have returned and I can't feel them anymore."

"You mean they're…" Logan felt his heart sink at the thought of Scott in danger.

"My husband and I have a connection with one another. I can see inside of him even when we're separated, but now," she paused when a single tear slipped past her cheek, "I don't feel anything. It's as if there's this void inside of me and with not knowing what's happened to him…"

"Where did they go?" Logan questioned standing up straighter when he felt sensation carry over the back of his neck.

"I'm not sure," Holly admitted pushing one hand through her blonde hair, "Scott wouldn't say anything to us when they left aside from urging us to stay safe here. Scott had found this place for us after the attack. He said it was a place where he'd spent some time in his youth—that he'd known first hand would protect us from danger."

"He had to leave some clue," Logan prompted her further for information, "There must be something that Scott had offered up before the group set off."

"I wish I'd asked more questions, but I was too afraid," she paused biting down on her lower lip, "However, there is one thing…"

"What's that?" Logan questioned as she looked to Charles again.

"I saw a vision of Scott," she explained nervously, "He was chained up in a dark room. It looked like some kind of basement. There was water running in the distance and footsteps."

"What else?" Logan tensed up thinking about the dream he'd experienced earlier in the night.

"Screaming," she gritted her teeth when she closed her eyes, "He was surrounded by screams. He was alone in my vision. I tried to find the others—to listen for their voices, but all I could hear was the agony. It was dark and miserable and…"

"When did you have this vision?" Logan questioned pulling her from her internal torment.

"A few days ago," she replied standing up taller, "it came to me in a dream with a woman…Jean I suspect…telling me that you were on your way. She said that you would find them—that you would make your way back to Scott and…"

"What else did you see in your vision?" Logan inquired urgently, "What else was around him at the time?"

"Water," she answered thinking about the sounds, "and pipes. There was a pipe overhead that he was chained to. It was leaking, but that wasn't the water I heard. It was…"

"Did it sound like a waterfall?" Logan replied taking in her words.

"It might have been. I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders, "I tried to ask Charles about it, but his visions are hazy as well and…"

"I think I know where they went," Logan decided drawing in a breath, "Did Scott ever mention a place called Alkali Lake?"

"No," she shook her head firmly, "why?"

"Because I think that could be a possibility. It's the perfect place for an anti-mutant group to set up shop," Logan turned his attention to Charles once again, "If they were looking for the tools to get their mission underway, then that would be the perfect place to start."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because it has a history of violence and destruction against our kind," Logan puffed out his chest when he realized what the dreams had been trying to say to him, "which is why I need to go out there tonight. If that's where they are…"

"Logan," she called out to him as he turned his back to her, "wait. The storm…"

"What storm?" he questioned when the sound of thunder shook the roof on the farmhouse above them.

"That storm," she frowned turning her attention to Charles once again, "It's not time to start running out into the night especially in not knowing what it is you're looking for."

"I know more about this than you can imagine," Logan divulged thinking about his past, "It's not safe for anyone out there and if they are at the base…"

"Then you're going to need help," she mouthed quickly, "There are still a few of us who are ready to do what is necessary to help the cause. Violet, Charles and I aren't the only ones here. There are others who can go with you and…"

"I go alone. It's safer that way," Logan motioned to where Charles was laid out before him, "He'd tell you that himself if he could. It's the way I work."

"It's too dangerous to go into this alone," she began again.

"It's even more dangerous to take anyone with me especially if the last group that went out with Scott hasn't returned. I can hold my own in ways that not many others can, so I'll be fine," Logan informed her when another rumble of thunder shook the walls of the farmhouse, "I'll leave in the morning when the storm passes."

"At least let me make you something to eat," she suggested moving away from Charles to step at his side.

"You said Scott stayed here, did you not?" Logan questioned thinking about what she'd told him about Scott.

She nodded, "It was only for a short time, but yes, he had a room down the hall. It's the first door on the left and…"

"Thank you," Logan replied not bothering to say anything further when he followed her directions to the room she'd singled out for him. Reaching for the doorknob he was suddenly overtaken by a scent he hadn't paid attention to upon his arrival. How he'd been able to ignore it's strength was beyond him as he found himself overtaken with the rush of thrill in the scent associated with Scott. Now it seduced his senses bringing him back to temptation when he turned the knob to open the door. Inside of the room was nearly as empty as the one Charles was in. There was a small twin sized bed near the center of the room and a nightstand with a lamp on it. Beside the lamp was a set of keys and a piece of paper folded near the edge.

"What did you get yourself into Scott?" Logan questioned when he found his mind returning to their beginnings. He could clearly recall the way Scott had come to him in the past calling Logan out on his standoffish behavior when it came to working as a team.

"If we do this, we do it as a team…" Logan could still hear Scott's words echo in his mind taking him back to the first time he'd pushed Scott's resistances. He could clearly remember Scott offering him a uniform to wear on the mission to Liberty Island. After that Logan had shocked Scott by stripping down shamelessly in front of Scott almost to spite him when Scott had stood in the room helplessly uncomfortable when Logan had left him without room for an exit.

"What are you doing?" Scott had questioned when Logan tossed his clothing aside to stand before Scott in a brazen display of nakedness.

"What does it look like?" Logan had grumbled placing his hands on his hips to offer himself on full display when Scott stood speechless before him too flustered to muster up any kind of comprehensive thought. He'd merely reached into the glass and pulled out a uniform for Logan before stomping out of the room in a frazzled state. It should've been enough to give Logan a small rush of pleasure in intimidating the fearless leader of the X-Men, but more so it had left Logan intrigued when he'd taken a whiff of the surprising arousal that lingered in Scott's absence. It had caught Logan off guard, but more so had left him feeling something he hadn't anticipated for the impossible man he'd clashed with.

"You'll be the death of me," Scott had teased much later when the two of them had found their way into Logan's bed tangled up in one another, "We're going to go straight to hell for this."

"I'm willing to burn if it means you'll keep coming back for more," Logan snarled pinning Scott down on the bed before forcing him to submit to passion all over again in the privacy of Logan's room away from the others.

"And yet…" a voice inside of Logan's head hesitated before speaking up again, "you let him go. You let him simply walk away without so much as a goodbye."

"That's not going to happen again," Logan mouthed reaching for the piece of paper that Scott had left on the nightstand. It still had traces of his scent lingering over it, causing Logan to pull it in closer when he found himself overtaken by the memory of the dream.

With a shudder Logan lowered the paper simply unfolding it and looking at the scribbles on the page. As Logan looked at it he found himself on edge when he realized it was the same building that had haunted him in his dreams. Somehow Scott had made a remarkable replica of the place Logan had been dreaming about and suddenly in the moment Logan found himself met with purpose and reason again. Walking out of the bedroom he moved down the hallway only to discover Holly in the kitchen tucked away near the back of the house. She stood near a window looking out into the yard at the rain coming down around them.

"Do you know where this is?" Logan questioned holding the paper up to show her.

"No," she shook her head firmly, "It doesn't look familiar."

"Take a good look at it," Logan nudged it in closer to her, "Tell me if something feels familiar about any of it."

"I don't know…" Holly frowned reaching for the paper and taking a closer look, "I don't recall seeing anything like this around here. It's…"

"It's the slaughterhouse by the old mill in Wilbury," another voice announced as Logan looked up to see an elderly woman peering into the kitchen from the doorway, "It hasn't seen life in years, but it was once a very frightening place."

"Where can I find it?" Logan questioned refocusing his attention to the woman before him.

"It's about an hour and a half north of here in good weather," the woman informed him with an uneasy expression on her face, "but it hasn't been used in years. They say it's haunted."

"Haunted," Logan repeated with a small laugh, "Hmph, well, we'll see about that."

"Do you think that's where they are?" Holly questioned giving the paper in Logan's hand another look.

"I think it's worth checking out," Logan explained drawing in a breath, "You said it's about an hour and a half north of here?"

"In good weather," the woman nodded quickly.

"Think you can draw me a map on how to get there?" Logan inquired thinking about the task ahead of him.

"I can do you one better. I can pull you one up on the internet," the woman decided scratching her head and moving out of the kitchen to retrieve Logan's request.

"Logan, what are you doing?" Holly questioned reaching for his arm when he attempted to follow their new arrival.

"Finding the others," he answered gruffly.

"What about the storm?" she asked.

"I'll worry about it later, but right now this needs my attention," he replied turning to walk away again.

"Wait," she squeezed her fingers around his bicep, "at least take my car with you. You'll never make it far on that bike."

"That bike has been to hell and back with me," Logan announced with a wide grin, "It can handle a little bit of rain. That much I'm sure of."

xxxxx