This chapter and possibly the two after it will be flashbacks. Fear's past revealed in flashes of memories, while he dreams. Then we will get back to the main story arc.

Please pardon any typos or obvious mistakes, this is not beta read.

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This story is partially dedicated to Jackie Voltaire seeing as I am in a role-play with here, where I am playing fear and she is playing Wolverine, so it is here Logan/James/Wolverine I based this one off of.

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Chapter Two: It is Memorable:

The inn was silent; it was far too late for anyone, even the staff to be awake. Thomas' eerie gaze traveled down the hall to insure he was alone. Crossing the wooden floor to the stares, cautious with every step to be sure no sound emitted from the floor boards. His cloak swept about him, he'd left it on as a precaution. Descending two steps the faintest of sounds reached his ears, freezing him in place. Ducking down so he could remain mostly hidden and yet still scan the lower room for the source of the noise. Thomas' gaze found a broad shouldered, muscular man with his feet on the table, arms crossed over his chest. Upon a second glance he recognized having seen this man around before, though hardly of a sociable nature, there was something fascinating about this man.
Thomas decided to take this opportunity as it was presented to him, moving down the steps and crossing the floor though the tables and chairs to the far corner, which was lit by the dim light of an old covered bulb. Pulling his hood over his face to conceal his eyes he approached, lips parted to offer a greeting. That same sound emanated from the man, softly, hardly audible. He was a sleep; Thomas couldn't help the small almost mischievous smile that crept onto his lips. He noticed then how the gruffer man's eyes danced, almost frantically behind his eyelids.

Thomas stepped closer, moving to stand directly at the stranger's side, gripping him by the shoulders in hopes of waking him and thus freeing him from the prison of his obviously unpleasant dream. He gave the man a shake, "Sir, wake up." His voice though hardly loud managed to hold a commanding tone that trailed on its edges. The man's eyes flew open, but remained unfocused as he lurched upwards from the leaning back position of his sleep. With a vicious snarl he wheeled on Thomas and struck! Thomas' eyes traveled down seeing the triple spears of bone embedded almost to the knuckles, jutting out from the man's hand and into his own chest! He tried to speak but his voice choked in his throat, coming out in a strangled gasp. Thomas locked his demonic gaze with the other man and watched as those deep blue orbs cleared and he felt the bone daggers slide from his chest. His knees gave out and the shorter man's powerful arms where all the kept him from hitting the ground with a hard thud.

The stranger lowered him to the ground, those dark blue eyes staring down at him with obvious panic, dancing over his face for a moment before focusing on the bloody wounds in his chest. The man stepped around him, in what appeared to be a frantic search for a way to stop the bleeding. Thomas' pulse hammered in his ears but he still managed to hear the man's whispered voice. "Oh god, I've killed him..." The voice was rough, like it was meant for growling rather then speaking.
Thomas coughed, his gaze on the other man's back as he searched. He could feel the deep wounds in his chest knitting together slowly, the muscles healing before the flesh over them. He rolled over onto his hands and knees, rising on gloved hand to his chest to trace the now raised scars where holes once where, his gloved claws came a way with blood but no wound remained.
He pushed up from the floor, his hair falling into his face, doing much of the job the hood of his cloak had before it fell back with the impact of the impalement. Standing he leaned on the wall closest to the table the stranger had been sitting at and cleared his throat. Finding his voice he spoke. "You owe me a drink for that, stranger" He whispered, though he knew the other man heard him seeing as he spun on his heel to face Thomas with wide eyes.
Thomas tugged at the torn ends of his shirt revealing the scars rather then wounds with a half smirk, flashing fangs for a moment. After his astonishment wore off the man heaved a sigh as if this whole time he'd been holding his breath and shook his head.

Thomas approached with more caution this time and held out a hand which was taken in one of the other man's larger hands and shook firmly. He returned the tightness of the grip with a grin, minding his own concealed claws on the man's sun loved flesh. Not sun loved in such away as to imply that this man lounged about soaking in the bright rays, but tinted as if he had worked long hours outside, which seemed to be the case giving the roughness of his hands.
The stranger seemed to appreciate the firmness in Thomas' hand shake and offered a crooked grin of his own. Agreeing in a gruff voice to buy Thomas' a drink as payment for the new scars he wore on his chest.
Thomas smirked and introduced himself. "Thomas Wolf, pleasure to. Meet you" He added a small raise of an eyebrow to imply that he was not usually stabbed on the first meeting. He headed back to the small table and pulled out a seat, gesturing with a sweep of his slender fingers that the other man should sit as well.

"James, Howlett" was what he heard reach his ears from behind as the now claimed James took the seat opposite him.
After much time in quite conversation, mostly about the fact the both men where as James put it. "not human," and as Thomas affirmed. "More then human" they managed to order their drinks when the bar staff returned. The night carried on in much that fashion, ending in both men sitting on the floor of Thomas' inn room, with cards and some money played out before them. Neither could become drunk, not with out cleaning out the tavern at the very least so it was with good humour that the two relied on to color the mood.