Logan stared at the dark amber bottle in his hand, two empties already on the bar in front of him. He'd been sitting there for a good hour, savoring each sip or gulp, and wasn't much closer to a resolution of thought than when he'd started. Hell, it wasn't really a question, was it? He knew he was feeling something for Storm, something that definitely didn't seem like just lust. He was entirely familiar with that emotion after years of using the fight circuit for cash. No, this was completely different, and he wasn't sure what to do with it. Maybe he'd felt that way before, in his past before his memories were stolen, but he didn't feel equipped on how to deal with it in the here and now. Logan took another gulp of beer, the current bottle half empty. It wasn't just his own feelings he needed to think about though. What if… what if she didn't see him that way? She was a pretty cagey woman, calm and neutral in her everyday life, although there was plenty of evidence of her sweet and nurturing side. Usually it was apparent around the kids at the school, or like back when he'd been recovering in the medical lab. Definitely not a standoffish thing to do, giving him that kiss on the cheek, or championing him so fiercely when he was being down on himself. The feral couldn't help chuckling into his next swallow of beer. She sure had been gunning for him, hadn't she? But in the best possible way, in a way that made him feel good inside. She'd actually cared. Cared enough to give him a verbal kick in the ass. He couldn't remember the last time someone had shown that level of concern for his well-being. Like he mattered… He'd never before thought about his presence meaning a thing to anyone, because if he were honest, it really hadn't. His life up until the school had been all about fighting, and keeping on the move, and just existing. But as the saying went, that was then, this is now. And 'now' meant he had the school. And Marie. And maybe… Ororo? That sweetness she'd shown him, that could be built into something, a relationship maybe. He could sure see her as someone to spend a life with. She was equal parts nurturing and untamed, fierce and so gentle, both a match and a counterpoint to his wild nature.
Aw hell, he was just going in circles, mentally chasing his own tail. He knew what he felt, what he wanted. Did he have it in him to court the lady? Maybe even be rejected? Logan snorted softly. That would hurt. But it would surely be better to know where he stood than having to endure an endless emotional merry-go-round. That decided, Logan took down the last of his beer in two long swallows. First, he'd pick up the fruity ice cream Jubilee wanted. Then he'd go enjoy some good food and the company of his friends. And after that… Well, he'd just have to see. Logan stood up, digging his wallet out and putting money on the bar to pay for his drinks. Just as he was turning, he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made him literally freeze in mid-motion. Short-cropped graying hair, goatee, and glasses… What the hell?! When he completely turned around and focused on the spot, there was no one. Was… was that…? There was no way that could have been Stryker. He couldn't remember a hell of a lot from his rescue, as he'd been pretty out of it. But the others had told him most of what had happened, and they seemed to believe that no one had survived his… breakdown, much less the following rush of water that had completely covered the complex. Logan strode over toward the outside door, where the figure had vanished through, and caught no trace of the man's scent. There was only somebody's cheap cologne, applied liberally enough to make his eyes water and his sinuses itch for a sneeze. Damn it. Was he seeing things? It honestly wouldn't surprise him if his fractured mind had finally devolved into hallucinating. The feral huffed softly, trying to clear his nose of the stench, and walked outside. Taking in fresh air was a help, although the lingering cologne was out there as well, just diluted by the breezes and the scent of greenery and crisp coolness in the air. He knew Stryker didn't wear whatever that crap was, but it was the only 'trail' he had, so to speak. Feeling slightly ridiculous about chasing a figment of his imagination, Logan hesitantly made his way toward the edge of a small wooded area where the trail of scent was heading. His instinct was clawing at him, putting him on edge, but he still crept forward, eyes darting around. Had he finally jumped off the crazy cliff? There was nothing there. Just inside the small grove of trees he stopped, increasingly wary. Nothing on the wind, nothing in view, but he still had the feeling of being watched. It was a bit maddening, actually, as if his fear was making him imagine things.
"Ah, Wolverine. Welcome to our little party." The voice came from above him, the deep resonant tone instantly recognizable as Magneto's. Hazel eyes looked upward, snarling as he saw the impeccably dressed mutant hovering what had to be two dozen feet above him in the air, a veritable lord of all he surveyed, the assh-… A flick of a wrist and something floated down and over to where the feral stood, some weirdly shaped metal object hanging in front of him. The hell? It looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite grasp the significance. Then something suddenly clicked; his mind had only an instant to scream in recognition… flashbang!... before there was a sudden, intolerable swell of light and sound, and he was falling to his knees in agony. At first there was nothing, blank silence in place of sound, and burning retinas instead of sight, furious blinking doing nothing except to make his eyes water. The next sensation was a pinch at his neck and Logan swatted at it, feeling a small piece of metal that had been embedded in his flesh as it fell away. The quick action was too late, though; the contact point was numb, and then the rest of him was as well, and he just began to fade away. His last thought was an exasperated 'Oh hell, not again…!'
