A/N:

WARNING: This is the third update of the night, so if you haven't already, please go to chapter 7 and start from there. Thank you~

Awww, this is the final chapter! I don't know when I'll start posting the next installment (entitled Without Needing). At the moment, it is Finals Week, but graduation is next Wednesday. My schedule should be slightly less hectic...

I don't own X-Men.


I smelled…. Antiseptic.

It was then, wherever the hell I was, that I decided that antiseptic was definitely the worst smell to wake up to. I opened my eyes, blinking away the light. I studied the ceiling.

The med bay… So, we're back at the mansion… Does that mean- Rogue. No, Marie. She's alive. But what about Logan? He would've had worse injuries than I did, and he held onto her for longer… Is he okay-

"That tickles," a rough voice said, answering my question.

"Hey," Jean's voice greeted softly, a smile in her voice.

"Hey," Logan echoed.

"How're you feeling?"

"Fantastic," he groaned.

"That was a brave thing you did," Jean complimented.

"Did it work?" he asked, more concerned about Marie's life than his ego.

"Yeah. She's fine," Jean smiled. "She took on a few of your more charming personality traits for a while… but we lived through it."

Logan coughed a laugh.

I sat up, sore. I cracked my neck.

"Oh, sure… I'll be fine," I smirked to Jean, not letting my façade fail me. "Jean, do you want to flirt with me too or am I free to go?"

If her responding glare was any acknowledgement, I was either dismissed or she really wanted to flirt with me. I assumed it was the former and stood, my eyes searching for clothes.

But, of course, Jean wouldn't let me leave without some form of humiliation. I assumed it was payback for her near decapitation at my hands all those years ago, but that didn't mean I appreciated the sling she secured around my neck anymore. Nor did I appreciate the multiple vials of blood she drew for 'testing'.

But I'd get back at her eventually. It may take some time, but I would definitely get revenge.

Then again, I could always laugh at her when I look the same twenty years later. I'm sure Dr. Jean Grey would appreciate that very much.


"There's an abandoned military compound at-"

I perked up, recognizing the territory.

"Is this Alkali Lake?" Charles looked faintly surprised.

"You know of it?"

"Of course I do. That was our Canada headquarters, the second strongest fort we ever called base. Anytime we had a hit in the neighborhood, we would always stop to chat with any generals or dignitaries Stryker wanted us to impress. We were an intimidation tool. Stryker would send someone along to watch our mission or I'd replay the memory for anyone who asked for it."

"So there'd be something left," Logan reasoned, staring at the topography laid out in front of him. I scoffed.

"Or you could do this the easy way and let me release the defenses guarding your long-term memory. The James I know is in there."

"Raven," Charles began. I could tell from his tone that he was trying to be tactful but that he really doubted any chance of Logan remembering things that easily.

"No, Charles. This entire time, he's been... I don't know, remembering. He's brought up old inside jokes-"

"What?" Logan asked, unaware. I met his eyes, my arms crossed.

"Do you remember what you said to me at the Statue of Liberty? We were standing right in front of the stairs. You looked at me, smiled, and said that was just like old times."

"I did?"

"Yes. And it is. You don't remember why it was like old times, do you?" He shook his head. "If what I'm thinking is correct, your mind has already begun to repair the damage done. It's just been subtle. For example, when did you start trusting me again?"

"I don't know," he said after a while, his voice slightly irritated. I could see something sparking with recognition in his mind. I pushed forward with my own mind delicately, not knowing how strong his defenses would be.

To my immense surprise, I found his mind almost completely unguarded, a fact that made me more cautious than ever. I proceeded anyway, and a memory soon found it's way to my mind.

~Flashback~

I stood easily from the couch, glancing back to see Logan exactly where I had been just a moment again. He was watching a hockey game, one of my beers in his hand as he chewed absentmindedly on a toothpick. After a few moments, he apparently grew tired of the game. He reached for the remote, growling quietly when it proved to be just out of his reach, forcing him to get up.

He stood grudgingly, stretching as he clicked the power button on the remote. He sighed as he glanced into his now empty beer bottle.

"Now I gotta go get another one," he grumbled to himself under his breath. He began the walk to the kitchen, pausing at something just outside the door.

I bit my lip, curious as to what he had noticed that was off. Then I watched as he cautiously peered through the doorway, mirrored by me.

I watched from a distance as I rummaged through the fridge for something. Logan chuckled when he heard something I muttered to myself.

"Damn it, Logan. Go buy your own drinks!... Bastard... Making me grumble to myself..."

~End Flashback~

My jaw fell, slightly indignant, and I smacked him in the shoulder.

"Really? You started trusting me because I was annoyed at you! Over a beer!" I paused. "Actually, that's pretty much how things went down the first time we met... Wow, was that really twenty-five years ago? God, how old am I?" I muttered to myself, trying to count the years.

Okay, Logan lost his memory fifteen years ago. Six years before that, we were on Stryker's team. Four years before that, I joined the team, when I was fifteen. So I was...

"Forty? What the hell?" I groaned. The professor looked amused.

"Normal people tend to grow older in a linear fashion, yes," he smiled. I scowled before remembering something.

"I saw a few memories in Magneto's mind that I'm sure the other X-Men might find very amusing, Charles. Something about a girl... What was her name? Miranda? Maria? Moira?"

To my amusement, the good Professor coughed awkwardly, turning back to the scale model of Alkali Lake.

"Regardless, Alkali Lake would be a good place to start if you wish to do this on your own," Charles said, moving the subject from himself to Logan.

"Thank you," Logan said, looking at the Professor and then at me. I scoffed.

"I really think you should stay here. One, it would be a much better use of your time, seeing as I can just show you everything from our collective past; two, Scott and I have a running bet on how long you'll stay; three, the last time I left you somewhere alone, I came back to see you with two bullet holes in your forehead."

"I don't recall that," he snorted. I raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, I hadn't noticed that at any point within the last fifteen years. Why do you think you can't remember that? You were shot. Twice. In the head. With adamantium bullets. I'm surprised you could remember how to walk by the time I found you, stumbling around."

"That I remember," Logan said, nodding slowly. I rolled my eyes and he looked at me differently. "You were crying," he realized. I bit my lip sourly.

"Out of all that, that is the thing you pick out? Not the fact that you had to think about whether or not you would try to disembowel me if I gave you a hug?"

"I seem to recall that I didn't," he reminded me with a smirk. I growled, smacking him on the shoulder again. He pouted playfully, reminding me once again of James.

"See? There it is. Logan doesn't pout. James does," I pointed out. "Anyway, you really should stay here. Just for a while."

He didn't respond.


"Hey. You running again?" Marie asked. I turned towards her voice.

He was standing in the foyer, glancing around.

"No, not really," he said a bit awkwardly. "I have some things to take care of up north." I stood, walking towards the two as Logan gestured at the grey streak in her hair.

"I kind of like it," she explained a little shyly. "I don't want you to go."

Logan unclasped his dog tags and placed them in Marie's hand, curling her fingers around the metal.

"I'll be back for this."

And he would be. Those tags were the only thing he had of his life before Three Mile Island. I followed him out of the door, chuckling when I saw him spot Scott's motorcycle, resting on its kickstand in the shade.

"You know that's Scott's, right?"

"Hoping it was," he smirked, revving the engine.

He released the brakes, leaning into the wind and speeding down the road north to Alkali Lake.


A/N:

IT'S OVER!

I really hope that y'all liked it :)

...

I just said "y'all"...

Oh well... YOLO...

Please tell me what you thought of the story :) Who knows, I might do the next story faster ;)

^.^ Susie ^.^