Disclaimer: I OWN WOLVIE SO HANDS OFF. Hah, i wish. Disclaim'd.

Summary: Logan wakes up to find himself in a hospital bed with restraints across his arms and chest. Xavier has seemingly betrayed him… memories long forgotten finally resurface. Torture beyond imagination lies in store for him through these memories.

a/n: Like, whoa its been ages. Literally, years. I obviously wasn't studying for all of it, but i got...distracted. Mostly by the new Wolvie comic books and the cute comic book store guy and a certain game *cough cough HOBBIT cough cough* but yeah. Here it is! Hope you enjoy x)

OH. and...review? THAAANKS! mwah!


Blissful Ignorance: Chapter 3

"Logan, wake up."

Logan stirred uncomfortably, acknowledging the voice in his sleep, but he chose to ignore it. His thoughts has been in turmoil all… night? He wasn't even sure it had been night while he slept. The room he was in didn't have any windows and it seemed that it was always uncomfortably bright.

"Logan." The voice a bit louder this time, Logan groaned and shifted in his sleep. He clung, almost childishly, to the last few moments sleep. After tossing and turning for almost five hours, he had just reached a calm enough state of mind to be able to rest.

"Fuck it," the voice said. "Logan." Logan left a sharp poke in his side and he bolted upright. Or, he tried to. Forgetting that he was still strapped to the bed, Logan felt a faint pain across his chest, where the straps cut into his body. He could almost taste the blood through the strong metallic scent.

Suddenly forgetting his predicament, Logan snapped his head around in search of the person who had poked him. Once again, the voice, the person was out of his eyesight. He growled in frustration.

A sigh came from behind him. From his scent, Logan knew that this was the first voice. This one's dangerous. And incredibly annoying. Logan's face briefly shifted into a smile that others could only describe as savage and terrifying. The smirk faded as he remembered that he was still stuck on the hospital bed with no plan to get away. It seemed that there was no escape for him in the foreseeable future.

The voice behind him cleared his throat. "While I'm sure you are happily contemplating how exactly you're going to kill me and how long you will make me suffer, I'd like to interrupt for a moment. While all those sadistic plans of yours might do very well were you, first of all, free, and secondly, my enemy, I'm very pleased to tell you that there is absolutely no need to get all hot and bothered over this little situation."

Logan gritted his teeth in irritation. "Get on with it bub, or get ready to be turned into shish kabob. You stabbed me awake for a reason."

"Hey. No need to get you panties in a twist over a little thing like that. If it means anything to you, sorry for waking you from what looked like the most pleasant of dreams." Logan could almost hear the grin on the face of the voice. "I didn't really want to wake you up like that. I figured it would get you too grumpy, and as expected, my hypothesis was correct." The voice was smirking now; Logan could hear it clearly. "But what was I supposed to do? I had already called your name about a billion times and it's not like I have all day to do this. I'm not even supposed to be in this area of the mansion right now, and if I'm caught in here with you, then—"

"Then get outta here."

"Oh." The voice sounded surprised. Logan caught an undercurrent of laughter that was being well hidden. "Okay, then. I figured you might want to hear what I have to say. But sure, if you want me to leave…" the voice trailed off.

Logan hated himself for his outburst, cursed himself for opening his mouth too early. Every single part of him, especially his pride, screamed against it, but he knew that he had to ask what the voice was talking about. Because if it meant he would get some information about what was going on, maybe even about a way to escape, it was worth it. Not really, but I'm desperate.

So, with every ounce of his strength, Logan forced his mouth open and said, "Wait."

There was no response from the voice, and for a second, Logan thought that the person had left. However, he knew that was impossible, because he would have heard the footsteps, the click of the door as it unlocked, and the slam of the door as it shut behind him. Logan took a deep breath and swallowed all his internal protestations.

"Can, uh, can you keep on talking?"

Idiot. Logan himself knew he sounded ridiculous, like a schoolboy who had just been forced to speak up against his will. He could almost feel the smirk on the man's face behind him; he could almost smell the haughty disdain that he just knew must be emanating from the man. What he could smell however, was just… relief? And a tinge of fear.

The last scent brought a smile to Logan's face. He had been surprised not to smell it before. On principle, with a few key exceptions, people emitted strong fear pheromones when they were around Logan. Mutant or non-mutant, it didn't matter. I'm just that kind of person.

The silence seemed to stretch and engulf the room. Logan had to strain to break it. "So, uh, what was it that you wanted to share with me?" He tried not to sound as if he was pleading with the voice.

The voice – no, man, he had to stop thinking of him as a disembodied voice – approached the back of Logan's head slowly. Logan lifted his head as high as it would go and he craned his neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the man.

"In due time, mon frère," said the voice. Logan frowned at the loose familiarity with which the man had addressed him.

"You're a mutant?" That was the only explanation for being called his brother. If there was one thing Logan knew for sure, it was that he did not have a brother. Especially now that he was in full possession of his memories.

"Yes I am. Of course I am, since this is a mutant school. But that's not the important part. The important part," the man continued, "is that I am here, time willing, to help you to escape." The man put a hot hand on Logan's shoulder, perhaps sensing that Logan was about to open his mouth, full of questions and demands. He continued quickly before Logan could interrupt, "Of course, you would have to take me with you, but that is a given, seeing as you need someone to help you out. My name is Remy, by the way."

With the last words, the man finally stepped out from behind Logan. As the man came into view, Logan realized that this was no man. He's little more that a kid. Must be twenty-five at the most.

The kid grinned in the cocky, self-obsessed manner that only a young man was capable of. His eyes, however, constantly flickered toward what Logan could only assume was the door. His eyes shifted to the thick plastic bonds that held Logan locked tightly in place.

"Now, mister, I wanna get you loose, but I need some…. assurances, that I won't be decapitated or the like the moment I free you. We clear?"

Logan narrowed his eyes at the man—Remy—he reminded himself, and after several drawn out moments, he nodded curtly.

"Good," Remy nodded back and stepped swiftly forward to unlock Logan from his restraints. "Now, I didn't see how you did it the first time, but I hear you managed to break free when Magneto went all psycho on Xavier." Remy raised an eyebrow, waiting for verification.

Logan just grunted.

"Good. I take it this means we can become the best of friends someday." Remy grinned widely as Logan tensed his body in response to the sarcastic remark.

"Just get me outta here," Logan grumbled as he glowered down at the thick restraints keeping him tightly constrained to the chair.

"Okay, okay." Remy held up his arms in exasperation. "You, mah friend, have got to learn patience," he rambled as his deft fingers swiftly unstrapped Logan's arms. "I thought you were once all Japanese and Zen a few years back." He leaned forward to unbuckle the three large chest straps, but before he could even touch the first plastic buckle, Logan's left arm shot up; he seized the front of Remy's shirt and jerked the man forward so that they were face to face.

"Don't… ever…." He rumble d deeply, "Talk to me about….Japan."

Logan released the silky cloth, shoving Remy backwards as he did so.

Remy tugged his maroon colored shirt back into place, looking shaken. Logan was too caught up in his fury to realize, and he glowered up at Remy as he waited for a response.

Remy stared blankly at Logan for several long moments, taking deep breaths as he did so. After what seemed like the longest two minutes of his life, Remy appeared to have calmed down and decided that Logan might not rip his head off just yet. He replied quietly but firmly,

"Got it."

Looking as if he had regained his composure, Remy held Logan's gaze, searching his eyes for a sign that Logan accepted his unspoken apology. Logan sighed and jerked his head in the direction of the door.

"We gonna get out of here or not?"

The question jolted Remy back to reality – back from wherever his mind had drifted in the tense moments after Logan's confrontation. He smiled absently and turned to Logan,

"Absolutely."

Erik "Magnus" Lehnsherr, alias Magneto, paced up and down a long corridor in the basement of the Xavier Institute. Magneto was infuriated by the depth of Charles Xavier's loyalty to the animal Wolverine, which he expressed by glowering darkly at the two mutant "bodyguards" who stood at the end of the hall each time he passed them. Presumably, Xavier had placed them there to ensure he didn't do anything stupid or inhumane, but Magneto had not yet calmed down enough to formulate a proper plan of action in response to the particular turn of events of only a few short days ago.

In the aftermath of the minor incident of the Wolverine's near escape from bondage as well as his—its—near death, Xavier had shut himself away in his study and had left Magneto to seethe angrily in what felt like an underground prison. In fury, he entered the room again and glanced at the seven or so students still cleaning up the mess that Logan's violent seizure had caused. He still couldn't understand why Charles was so insistent of keeping Logan's mind intact. The man was nothing more than a savage beast, and his complex condition was a perfect place to begin understanding the inner workings of the mind.

It wasn't as if the animal's memories contained hidden truths or earth-shattering revelations. The man had lived a ridiculously long and unfortunate life and while it was all very sad of course, there was nothing locked in his mind, memory-wise, that Magneto hadn't already known.

What Magneto was most interested in, and he had told Xavier this, was the coping mechanisms that the Wolverine's mind had employed when the Weapon X scientists had planted false memories to conceal the real ones.

Somehow, over time, Logan's mind had induced some sort of mental blackout of his entire lifetime preceding that event, and Magneto was determined to understand how and why this had happened. Of course, there were the usual rumors that members of Weapon X itself had shot Wolverine in the head with adamantium bullets, but Erik couldn't understand the sense in that. Rather, one person must have scientifically erased the memories for a reason, and if so, Magneto would figure out how.

Now, the next step was to convince Xavier that this cause – his cause – was beneficial to the both of them. Xavier had seen through the "save mankind" ploy as expected, but Magneto was prepared to fight Charles on this matter. Academically, of course.

The one thing that Magneto was unclear about was the state of Wolverine's memories. Of course the real memories were left intact, but it was still undecided if he would also experience the implanted memories as well. He and Xavier had debated at length on the subject and as always, each man had a distinct opinion that would not be swayed without definitive proof on the matter.

Magneto entered the small room that was his makeshift holding cell. Nobody had said anything about restrictions or the sort, but Magneto knew that Xavier had limited him to his "guest bedroom" and the hallway outside, because whether the man had voiced his orders or not, the student bodyguards would not let him pass through to the elevator or enter the Danger Room. Magneto knew better than to push the matter, however. He wanted something badly, and he knew how difficult accomplishing the task would be without the help of Charles.

Magnus reflected on a conversation in which he and his second in command, Mystique, had argued about the Weapon X operatives. His first choice, however harsh it may have seemed, was for Sabretooth to be the guinea pig, but the plan ultimately failed because he was in full employ of one of the two sets of memories: either the real or implanted ones. Either way, it didn't matter, because Viktor Creed had run off and nobody seemed to know where he was or how to find him.

Magneto paced back and forth along the large metal plated corridor connecting to the main chamber in his fortress on Asteroid M. In fury, he entered the main chamber and angrily swept his arm across the top of his large metal desk, causing nearly everything crash loudly to the floor. Ignoring the noise, Magneto continued pacing, muttering to himself.

"That stupid, vile, foul, idiotic, ugly cretin."

A metal paperweight rolled across the stone floor and stopped at the corridor's entrance, impeded by a pair of doors. Angrily striding forward, Magneto flicked his fingers, and with his mind, yanked the paperweight back to his desk with a heavy thump while at the same time pulling open the sleek metallic doors.

"Raven," he bellowed out into the open air.

Moments later, a tall, slender, blue-skinned woman with bright red hair and yellow eyes stalked in. Her fluid, graceful movements gave the appearance that she was gliding along water.

"Magneto," she responded coolly. "You know I don't answer to my slave name. But," she paused to watch the irritation and fury ignite in Magneto's cold eyes, "you called?"

"Yes," he snapped. "Where is Viktor? You were supposed to update me." When all she did was raise her eyebrows, Magneto concealed his fury by drawing his desk forward with a metallic grind. "Mystique!"

Mystique bowed her head as she tried to conceal her irritation at his impatience. "Of course, sir." She gazed at her master, her face an impassive mask. "Sabretooth has gone off the grid. I do not know where he is. Even Destiny is unable to find her."

The metallic room vibrated as Magneto attempted to conceal his agitation and displeasure. "The woman can see the future, not find lost mutants! Did you go to the Morlocks?"

Mystique's yellow eyes flashed and she nodded, anger starting to show in her own eyes. "Callisto cannot find him either. Which means," she added, "that he is being hidden by a powerful mutant, or…" Mystique's eyes betrayed her delight at the idea, "He has died."

Magneto looked at her in exasperation. "My dear. Do you think it is easy for someone like Viktor to die? Not at all. He is hiding from me." He clenched his left hand into a fist, and a metal chair flew towards them, stopping at the large desk. "Do whatever it takes to find him. I want to know why he has decided to leave, and why he is hiding." Magneto sat at the chair and pointedly looked at Mystique. "You may go."

In response, Mystique firmly planted her feet in a fighting position and she crossed her arms in defiance. Her hips swayed to the side, and the tiny metal skulls around her waist jingled. "I'm busy. Make someone else do your dirty work this time. Or, better yet, find Sabretooth yourself."

Magneto looked up at her in annoyance. He had begun to draw up all the things he had knocked over, clearly in a terrible mood. "Excuse me?"

"I'm busy. You may enjoy running a circus here, but I need to go back to work finding more teenage mutants to join the Brotherhood." Her eyes met Magneto's. "Ask Toad to do this. Or Destiny. She's always complaining about how she's bored."

"Just do as you are told and leave Destiny out of this. I will need her shortly. Now, if you'll leave, I have important business to attend to." Magneto turned back to the mess of papers and metallic ornaments on the sleek steel desk in front of him.

Mystique let out a sharp breath and opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. She whipped around and stalked toward the door, flaming with indignation. As she pulled open the door, Magneto said,

"And if that blasted school is causing you trouble, leave. I don't know why you insist on being the principal of some ridiculous high school. There are much easier ways of finding young mutants who are sympathetic to our cause."

"None as easy as this one," she replied, without turning. "And if I leave, then Xavier will end up finding them instead of us. That fool has already cost us many followers. Rogue was our biggest loss."

"Rogue was unstable. It is better to have Xavier deal with her than us. And don't call him a fool. Xavier is a powerful mutant and an old friend. My only regret is that we decided to follow different paths." Magneto stopped ruffling through papers and stared blankly at the opposite wall without seeing it, "If only he had shared my vision of a perfect world without weak and stupid humans… we could have conquered the world by now. We could have done it together." Magneto snapped out of his reverie and shuffled his papers irritably. "But since he has followed a fool's dream, we must continue to disagree. Unfortunately, he must eventually die for my dream to live."

Mystique looked at Magneto thoughtfully, one hand still reaching for the metal doors. She shook her head sharply to clear her thoughts and said, "Well, I won't be leaving the school for some time. There are a few promising mutants at the school right now. And thanks to my work, Kurt Wagner is now with the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants." She opened the doors and stepped out of the room. The clicking of her heels and the jingling of her belt could be heard as she walked away.

Magneto sighed and put down the mess of papers in his hands. "Nightcrawler," he mused, his mind full of ideas for the young mutant circus performer. Coming to a decision, he stormed out of the room, intent on using the man to find Viktor.

Ultimately, his idea had failed, and not only had Nightcrawler been unable to find Sabretooth, but he had ran off and joined the X-Men in the process.

Magneto let out a huff of air and seated himself of the single-person-bed at the corner of the room. Feigning indifference and content, he swung his legs onto the bed and lay bad with his arms behind his head. Taking one last piercing look at the two bodyguards peering in at him from outside the door, Magneto used his power over metal to force the door shut on their faces as he closed his eyes for a nap.


A/N: I've spent all day basically campaigning in Middle Earth and watching Star Trek TNG, but lookie! I updated! so...hope you liked, its been a LONG time since my last update, and i hope my story hasn't withered and died in the past two years but uhm, pweeeez review. I may not update faithfully, but i do luv you! *sniff sniff puppy dog eyes

tyvmmmmm ;)