I'd like to start with the most necessary of all disclaimers; I own nothing at all of X-Men, and I barely own my own characters. =P

And a quick note about the setting: A half year AFTER X2. No Last Stand rubbish.


April 23, 1990

It was dusk and it was time. The omnipresent scent of rain clung in the air, heavy and claustrophobic as always. Blick and October began their dusk-time stroll down Carnation Lane, briefly trading the confinement of their prison for the desolation and silence of The Valley. As they walked side by side, hand in hand, their eyes never touched the houses they passed. No one had ever walked through the gates at the end of the lane after their own arrival five years ago.

Since then, their walks had degraded from hope of finding another porch light on to a mere ritual. As they turned back at the gates to complete the ceremony, a shock of fear like none other since the day she was captured by The Valley shook October's very core. The overwhelming panic sent October to her knees, her face colliding with the cold, slick pavement. As her hand slipped from her brother's, the immediate terror quickly subsided into a gnawing nervousness that accompanied the dull throb on the side of her skull.

"Blick," October moaned, the sight of blood pooling around her face bringing her injury into realization. Her brother did not answer, but slowly, too slowly, shifted down into a crouch in front of her, his gaze meeting hers with an animation October had not witnessed since their detainment. This sight sent alarms ringing in her head, beckoning the blackness that threatened her consciousness to come closer.

"Please…" As October fell into the dark cavern, cars with flashing lights roared past her, school children with needles ran to catch her, and Blick's never before heard laughter chased her with them.


April 24, 1990

October awoke in short gasps. The dim light threading through the blinds hinted that it was midmorning. The rusty smell of blood invading her nostrils helped her fingers locate the wound on her scalp. And the smile on Blick's face confirmed the worst.

He sat cross-legged in a chair across from October's bed, his hands folded on his knees, his eyes alive with something sinister. "Good morning my baby sister," He cooed from his perch.

October racked her brain desperately for some evidence that would suggest that last night was not real. Her thoughts floundered with the same reminder, his eye is never wrong.

"My dear sister, are you alright?" Blick's head cocked to the side, his smile never quavering, only obscured by his chin-length hair falling across his face.

"You were laughing about something," October curled her knees to her chest, wrapping herself helplessly in her blanket. It was all she had in her to stay awake as her injury fought to gain control again.

"That must have been a very nice dream, sister," Blick straightened in his chair. "You know that's never happened." His lips curled farther back, exposing his yellowed teeth. October was losing poorly and quickly.

"Blick, you were laughing, tell me what's going to happen!" October held herself tightly, the apprehension rising to the urgency of what it was the night before.

"Why? You already know. Well, in part I suppose." Blick stood, and with deliberate tardiness, walked to the basin of fresh water on October's night stand. Even more sluggishly, he dipped a cloth into the cool water and positioned it to the right side of October's trembling and oozing head.

"Do you remember when you were five and I was seven? Do you remember the first time I told you?" Blick's tone changed to take on an undercurrent of disgust, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. He finished with the bloodied washcloth, dropping it into the basin. He turned from October who only stared in terrific numbness. The barrier of her arms fell and her legs folded awkwardly around her.

With a dramatic spin, Blick faced his sister, recomposed and wearing a more horrifying smile than before. "June eighth, 2012, little sister."

October swooned and entered the dark cavern once more.


Dusk

Against all her will, October's legs proceeded with the march. Right and then left, they shuffled alongside her brother, his smile in perfect preservation, his hands carefully stowed in his pockets. Was this the reason they had practiced the same walk for five years? So that it would become so mechanical October couldn't stop?

Help me.

"I believe we'll finally find someone at the gate this time, sister. I'll bet you a cent." Blick strode faster now, his grin widening, his hands pulling out of his pockets. October saw the very slim chance and took it.

Lunging forward, she yanked Blick's wrist. In the same instant, Blick's free hand circled around to slam against October's tender wound, fresh blood spewing under the gauze. October dropped his hand and stumbled back, but she had already seen down the road.

"Who is that?" She thundered loudly, surprised at the cheap shot Blick had taken. The increasing ache in her head only intensified her sour shock.

"I don't know what his name is, but he's somehow managed to lower the block The Valley had on my eye. He can help us get out of here and that's all that matters." Blick spat, returning his hands deep into his trouser pockets.

"Blick, you don't know what he wants!" The stupidity of all her brother's actions, past and present, fueled a fire October had never felt. The flames leaped and danced in her brain, strengthening the pain to an abnormal degree.

"I've seen what he wants, and I completely agree. He will help me achieve that day, little sister. And after that day, I will..." Blick had already begun to walk in the gate's path, but the sight of his sister's condition halted him.

October was doubled over, her palms grabbing fistfuls of hair, her nails scratching at her gash, loud and agonizing groans ripping through her throat. "Blick," She mustered in between shrieks, "don't leave me."

Against his better judgment, Blick lifted his foot in the opposite direction.


February 11, 2012

Jean's death felt more like a tear widening than the initial cut. This only increased the bitterness of Logan's amnesia and left him with a seemingly permanent impatience towards the Professor. Waiting outside Cerebro for debriefing on a mission felt humiliating.

More than the anguish of knowing he had experienced a previous loss and was unable to recall who, Logan continually amazed himself with his inhuman way of moving on. While Scott still cut classes and visited Alkali Lake months afterwards, Jean was randomly slipping out of Logan's conscience. Nights that were once occupied by her face alone now gave way to old, more baleful nightmares.

"Logan," The Professor called in the Wolverine's head, snapping him out of his brood. Feeling self-conscious, he tried to think of something insulting as he stormed through the automatic doors.

"Yeah?" Logan kept the length of the walkway as his distance with the Professor.

"Many years ago, there was a young mutant girl who cried out so strongly, I heard her without Cerebro. Since Cerebro was built, I've searched for her, but to no avail," Professor Xavier removed Cerebro from his bare head, gently lowering it to its cradle. He wheeled his chair around to face Logan, beaming. "Today, I've found her."

Logan said nothing and waited for the old man to finish. The sooner he gave the history lesson, the sooner Logan could cut a deal with the Professor to look through his memories after the job.

"Do you know why I am sending you alone, Logan?" Was he trying to waste time with unimportant questions?

Logan shrugged. "I work better alone."

"From what I've gathered, this girl has a talent that might interest you," The Professor gave Logan a wink as he sailed through the automatic doors. Swearing, Logan followed.

"Because of her ability, I've sent you alone. If you drive the speed limit, it should take you an hour and a half to come back from Manhattan. That should be more than enough time to…break the ice." The Professor grinned as Logan fumed.

"Is this a blind date or something? She'd better have big j-."

"Anything this girl touches, Logan," The Professor interrupted, "she can see its past," The Professor's face grew lined with seriousness. "We need her, Logan."

The Wolverine deliberated. "Alright. Where is she?"

The Professor put on a grin once more. "She tends a bar called Kenny's Castaways on Bleecker Street between Thompson and Sullivan. Her shift is over in twenty minutes, but if you leave now, I'm sure you can catch her."


If you're reading this, that means I love you dearly! :D Thanks for your time and consideration in reading my first fic (on this account xD).

Originally, I hadn't yet planned to introduce Xavier and Logan until chapter two. However, to reassure my readers that this fanfiction actually does have something to do with X-Men and not my OC's, I've added to the first chapter. =P

The next chapter may be delayed up to a week, so peaze don't bug me about it. =P

-Sincerely, Sunshine Samich.