Disclaimers: No, the X-MEN are most certainly not mine. No profit will be made from this story, which is really a shame, 'cause I need a new car. :-)

Mason Creed on the other hand, does belong to me. Lock, stock and blades. So if you steal him from me, I'll hunt you down, chain you to a chair and make you watch Barney the Purple Dinosaur 24/7! Yes, I really am that mean. :)

Author's Note: This story takes place a year after Logan gets back from his trip to Canada, which turned out to be a waste of time. But basically he comes back and joins the X-MEN full time. But mainly he came back because that's where Marie is.

Summery: Logan meets a mutant with a past that clashes a little to closely to his own.

FEEDBACK= Ambrosia. Please send it to Tecklo@aol.com

Weapon-X: Cougar

By Tecklo

Chapter One: Chance Encounters

In the forest behind Xavier's School for the gifted, the winter air blew through the trees without remorse or thought. The ground was liberally covered with white snow, reminding whoever was out in the weather of the bitter cold. The only one's that seemed to not mind the cold were the animals that had taken up residence in the Westchester Forest.

Them, and a young lady that went by the name of Rogue. Well, most people called her Rogue, even the Professor. But for some reason, beyond her understanding, Logan always called her Marie.

Logan. He was part of the reason that she was out in the woods on this cold day. No. If ah am goin' to be truthful with myself, Logan is the only reason ah am here. She thought, but it wasn't a bitter thought. In fact, she had a little half smile on her beautiful face.

The fact was that Marie still had some of Logan still in her head. And even though this thought made her semi-happy, it also confused her somewhat. The remenants of Magneto had long ago quieted. But not Logan. Every once in a while, when she was annoyed, she would let a small growl out, that would do Logan proud, if he knew.

But she had decided a long time ago that she would never tell him that he had never completely faded from her mind. For one simple reason. Every time the subject would come up, Logan, the bad-ass Wolverine, would get a haunted look of guilt and sorrow just at the thought of his dark and unconsolable past in her head. So, Marie tried to avoid the subject as much as possible.

Marie took a seat on a rather large rock, and let out a very explosive sigh. A frown suddenly marred her face as she suddenly remembered what she was thinking about when she entered the woods to begin with. She was thinking about Logan, and his undying stubbornness.

She knew that she loved Logan, she loved him with all of her heart. And not that brother-sister kind of love that most people thought that she had going. And the people that didn't think that, thought that it was merely a teenage infatuation that would eventually go away.

But they were all wrong. It was more of a gut-wrenching-need kind of love that had brought the young woman near tears more than once. But, it seemed at every turn, he would look at her as nothing more than a kid.

Damn, ah could use a beer. She thought, twirling the white streak of hair on her head. Then she realized what she just thought and slapped herself in the forehead as if that would help the thought from coming back.

It was another one of Logan's 'Personality Quirks', as she had begun to call them. She gave in once when she had a sudden craving for whiskey. Her friend Jubilee told her that she had some stashed.

Marie drank three-fourth's of the bottle . . . And the next morning she swore off alcohol for good. That and cigars. But not cigarettes. She was quite fond of her Marlboro Reds, and had no wish to give them up. Much to Logan's dismay . . . He could be way over protective sometimes.

Pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, Marie thought some more. She thought of a subject that she loved, as well as hated. Ways to catch the Wolverine's eye. "Ah could wear less clothing . . ." But nawt with this skin. Her thoughts added bitterly. Sometimes she thought that nobody really understood what it was like not to be able to touch anybody- ever.

And that made her more lonely and cold inside than any winter could.

"Enough of this pity-party shit." Marie said miserably, standing up and getting ready to walk again, in hopes of clearing her head. She knew that her last comment was most likely one of Logan's thoughts. She found that walks usually help a lot when it came to clearing her thoughts. And when she had to clear her thoughts and Logan's . . . The walks tended to be a little long.

The young, girl mutant made it about thirty steps before it happened. She tripped and fell. Sitting back up, she let out a slew of curse words that would have made a sailor blush. Logan's thoughts again . . . She thought idly.

Marie's deep brown eyes scanned the ground that she had been walking on to see what tripped her, at first she saw nothing. But on gazing closer, she spotted what looked to be a tip of a boot, the snow covering the rest.

After she got to her feet, her steps were timid as she edged closer to the object of her curiosity. There just cain't be nothin' attached to that boot. She tried to console herself. Her mind thinking of a dead body.

Marie slowly knelt down to the boot in question, and stretched out a hesitant hand, slowly brushing away the snow to reveal more of the boot. The girl was a little pale when she realized that there was indeed a leg attached to the boot. A stray thought wondered how he could have gotten so covered in snow while in the forest. And her mind told her that it must have fell from the trees.

Then Rogue began to work in earnest and started removing snow as fast as possible, on the slight chance that whoever was under all the white, cold snow might still be alive. Something she highly doubted, but clung to the hope none the less.

When she saw the body completely uncovered, she gave a sharp intake of breath. The boy, that looked to be only a year or two younger than herself, was a pale blue. But it was not a natural blue, like that of Mystique. It was unnatural. The kind that only prolonged exposer could produce.

His shirt, or what was left of it, looked to be shredded by some kind of claws and covered with dried blood. Lots of it. Whether it was his or someone else's, she didn't know. The hair on the boy's head was a light, light blonde and was matted to his forehead do to snow and more than a little blood.

He looks so peaceful. Came an odd thought.

Rogue was more than sure that the boy was dead and felt more than a little sad that someone so young would die like this. But her sadness was for nothing when she caught the shallow movement of the boy's chest. At first she thought that she imagined it.

But when she saw it again, it set her mind into doing something useful. She remembered that Jean had somehow set it up so that she could call her telepathically if she tried hard enough, and wasn't that far away.

Well, ah think ah betta give it a shot. Marie thought, then screamed as loud as she could in her mind. 'JEAN!!!!'

******************

Two Hours Later

Mason Creed's first thought was: Where the fuck am I?

He made sure to keep his eyes closed as he let his other senses do the work. Mason really didn't want whoever was walking around him to know that he was awake just quite yet. In fact, he wanted to prolong it as long as he could, or at least until he could get an idea of where the hell he was.

A nose that was so sensitive that it would put a wolf to shame, picked up many things as he laid on his back. It picked up enough to know that he was in some kind of med lab. It also picked up perfume.

Perfume? Must be comin' from whoever is watching me. He thought. The muscles in his face twitching slightly.

It was all he could do to keep the animal under control. If he was truthful with his self, he would admit that he was scared. The smell of the lab and the hard table he was laying on was reminding him way too much of his nightmares . . . And Mason had NO intention of reliving those.

He was trying to remember how he got here. The last thing he remembered was running from one very big, ugly mutant that was dead set on tearing a pound of flesh from him. Although, why, Mason didn't know. In fact, he couldn't remember anything from before the forest.

As Mason laid there, his ears picked up a new sound, that of a door opening. His noise twitched slightly as he smelled the newcomer. Whoever he was (and he could tell the person was a he) he liked spending a lot of time outside and he liked to smoke cigars.

Cigars. I'd kill for some nicotine . . . Great, I'm about to, probably, be a lab rat and I want a fuckin' cigarette. Mason thought sarcastically. But then he focused his attention on the conversation that had just started.

"Logan." Was how the woman that had been watching him greeted the newcomer.

Mason was surprised to hear a low growl from the newcomer named Logan. A growl that sounded almost like his did in the woods. "Kid's got tags like mine." The voice was gravelly and more than a little dangerous.

"That's not all 'The Kid' has that resembles you," The woman started. Mason noticed that she put the emphasis on the word kid, like she was trying to protect him. But he just as quickly dismissed it. It's better not to put any faith in anyone just yet. He thought darkly as he listened to the woman continue.

"His entire skeleton is covered in adamantium. He also has the same 'accessories' as you do. His healing factor is just as good, or maybe even a little better than yours. I won't know for sure until I draw some blood." The woman said. Only getting a grunt in return.

Adamantium? Accessories? Drawing blood?!? Like Hell. Mason's thoughts were racing.

Pretty soon it started to build. That feeling inside that took away all the fear. The only word he could think of that described it was 'animalistic'. It would make him see red, wallow in rage and not think straight. It also made him want to destroy whatever was in front of him. But it also put a damper on his fear. The only time he remembered feeling it was in the forest, but he was pretty damn sure that he had felt it before.

Mason tried to still his mind, but that didn't work. And when he felt the pin prick of pain in his arm, just like in his nightmares . . .

Logan stood back and watched as Jean (Her name was Red to him) walked towards the boy with the needle and shivered in revulsion, remembering the flash backs he had been getting lately . . . That was when his sensitive hearing picked something up. The Kid's heartbeat.

His eyes flashed as he smelled the rage roll off the kid and put two and two together. He let out a growl and yelled, "Get outta the way, Red!"

A Snikt! could be heard as all six of the kid's ten inch adamantium claws popped out quicker than lightning, plunging right for Jean as he sat straight up.

Jean would never have made it if the Wolverine didn't shove her, quite hard, straight into the wall with such force that it knocked her unconscious. He did it on purpose. If the Kid was anything like him, he wouldn't consider an unconscious woman a threat.

Unfortunately, it put him right in the path of fire, or claws, if you will. They cut all the way through his shoulder muscle, all the way to the bone. With a growl, Logan leaped back about five feet, hoping the kid would come out of the blind rage.

It was all the Wolverine could do to keep the animal in check, so that he could, maybe, get control of the situation. In a mere matter of a few seconds, Logan sized the kid that was in front of him up.

The kid was solid, sinewy muscle. Very well defined. It wasn't the muscles of a weightlifter. It was functional muscle. The muscle of a soldier. And Logan could tell by the kid's stance that he was no stranger to killing.

Not to mention the look in the kid's eyes. Logan had seen that look in himself more times than he cared to remember. But it stood out in the kid's bright, bright green eyes all the more. Logan could swear that those eyes looked damn near supernatural. But he knew for a fact that they looked more like a trapped animal's eyes than a human's at the moment.

Logan took a deep breath, starting to regain his temper as he felt his shoulder start to heal. He also stood stalk-still, knowing that movement would set the kid off, again. If he was in the kid's shoes, he knew that he would certainly think he was in enemy territory.

They stared at each other, like a pair of wild animals, for almost a full minute.

When Logan started to see a bit of sanity come back into the kid's eyes, he still stood very still, but he also spoke. Even if it was a half growl. But, then again, nobody ever accused me of being 'nice'. Logan thought wryly.

"Look, kid, I don't know who the hell ya are, but unless yer ready to go a round with someone a might meaner than you," Snikt! Logan's claws popped out in all their glory. "You'll put those damn claws back where they were." The Wolverine had what could only be described as an evil glint in his eyes when he said it.

Logan knew that the boy knew that he was in trouble, and that he was in his right mind again, because he watched his eyes become wary. But the boy still had the ten inch blades out and his body tensed even more, awaiting an attack. "Fuck off." The boy growled out.

If it was anyone but the Wolverine, they probably would have run out of the room at the sound of the kid's voice. It was filled with murderous intent. "Kid," Logan started, trying to think of a different tact. Then found one. "We ain't the one's that put that metal in ya. And we sure as hell don't want ya as a lab rat. We ain't gonna hurt ya."

Then another thought came to him. This one made him smile just a bit. If you didn't know him, you wouldn't even think it was a smile though. "Red said yer a lot like me. You got heightened senses?"

The kid nodded. Though he didn't know why.

"Then tell me if I'm lyin'." Logan considered that to be one of his best senses, being able to smell and hear if people were lying to him. That, and being able to tell if a woman liked him in a sexual way. Took the guess work out.

He watched as the kid's noise twitched, albeit very slightly. Then, with an inaudible sigh, watched as the kid's blade's popped back in. His eyes were still wary though, and he was still very much on guard. Logan popped his claws back in as well, before he spoke.

Logan then nodded his head towards Jean. "I'm gonna check on Red." It was meant to be a show of faith. Turning his back on the boy. For some reason he felt that the boy could be trusted, if he wasn't provoked.

Mason stood as still as an oak. But he was also confused, scared and still a little angry. But the anger came from being confused and scared. And to top it off, he would be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to know more about Logan. Maybe he can tell me where I can find the bastards that are in my dream. That'll be a few killings that I'll be more than happy to do. The thoughts in his head were very dark, but he meant them.

He then looked over to where Logan walked, taking in what he looked like. Logan wasn't much to look at . . . He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a flannel shirt, along with a brown duster. And he was about Mason's height. But, somehow, Mason believed the man when he said that he was 'a might meaner' than he was.

Mason had no wish to tangle with the man.

Seeing the shredded shoulder of the duster and the one Logan called "Red", Mason felt more than a little guilty. In fact, he felt damn near ashamed. He only had the vaguest of ideas of why he went into a blind rage. He schooled his face into an expressionless feature and thought: I shouldn't even be allowed to be around people. I'm nothing but a freak.

And with that thought, Mason got a tight rein on his emotions. Promising himself that he would only answer questions to be civil, but he would not lose his cool. No, Mason Creed no longer trusted himself. Not at all. Closing himself off to people seemed to be the only answer.

"Red? C'mon, Red, wake up." Logan said in his usual gruff manner, gently tapping the side of Jean's face. Then watched as Jean slowly came to her senses.

"Jesus, Logan. Why did you push me?"

"Kid was gonna turn ya into a shiskabob." Logan stated in his usual blunt manner.

Jean looked over at the kid. He was just standing very still. Though, Jean could see the guilty expression in the kid's eyes. She had read his surface thought when they brought him in. The good news was that he was safe. The bad news was that he had been through just as much, or more, than Logan.

Jean crawled to her feet, albeit a little slowly, giving the teenager that almost ran her through a warm half smile. "Hello," She started, trying to sound as friendly as possible. The kid looked like he was strung tighter than a bow. "Welcome to Westchester. My name is Jean."

Mason gave Jean a brief nod, only his eyes saying he was sorry. But not bothering to give his name in return.

"I think we should go see Chuck." Logan growled out. Being in the med-lab always set his nerves on edge. And an edgy Wolverine was a dangerous Wolverine.

Logan saw the protest in Jean's eyes before she even spoke. "But I still have test I nee-"

Logan cut her off, looking over at the boy, or what looked to be a boy. "Do you want to meet Chuck?" He asked with a glint in his eyes, already knowing the boy's answer.

"Yeah, I think I do." Mason replied. He caught on quick. He could tell that Logan didn't like this lab anymore than he did.

And on the other hand, Mason was more than a little curious as to who Chuck was.

TBC

Author's note: Please tell me if you want me to continue. I'm new at this.