It wasn't difficult for Logan to track Sam's path through the woods. The teen hadn't exactly been concerned with hiding his tracks. Waiting around the institute for Charles to locate Sam with Cerebro simply wasn't something that Logan could do. So, he had opted to go out and try to find Sam the old fashioned way.

He'd been looking for half the night already. Charles hadn't seemed to have been making much more progress than Logan was. Other than being able to tell that Sam was still in Bayville he hadn't pinpointed Sam's location. Kitty had made the suggestion that Sam might have run away and unfortunately Sam was just unpredictable enough with his mood swings to make that possible.

A little less than halfway from the Highschool to the Institute Logan came across the old railroad tracks. But for some reason that Logan couldn't fathom, Sam's tracks suddenly changed directions.

Logan knelt down by a footprint and studied it carefully. It was deeper than the others, with most of the weight put on the ball of Sam's foot. He was running. Logan's frown deepened. He hadn't seen Sam in many Danger Room sessions but from what he had seen Sam didn't particularly like running. Or…physical exertion of any kind, come to think of it.

No, Sam had been running from something. What could frighten someone who was already dead? Logan couldn't think of anything. Sam had seemed pretty blasé about most things, with the exception of fearing possessing living people that is.

The feral mutant followed the erratic trail deeper into the woods, noting the way the tree roots were clumped together in giant knots every few feet. As he passed a large oak he noticed something shiny on the ground. A growl built up when he recognized it as the shattered front of Sam's Image Inducer. Now it was definite that something was wrong.

Even if Sam had suddenly run away he wouldn't have been that careless with his Image Inducer. He hated being stared at and without his cloak he wouldn't have risked any harm to the inducer because it was his only buffer for his appearance.

Logan pocketed the watch-like device and looked around carefully. He hadn't found any other tracks but Sam's. So what was he running from?

~Logan, have you found any thing?~

~Yeah, but I don't like it…~Logan began as he straightened. ~I found Sam's watch busted on a rock.~

There was a long silence from the Professor. ~Continue looking for him, Logan.~

~Already planning on it, Chuck.~ Logan assured as he began to follow Sam's tracks again.

Sam twisted his hand a bit; trying to squeeze out from the metal cuff that Gaylord had used to lock him to the table. If he was lucky the stitches around his wrist would give out and he'd…he'd…he'd have a stump free. Well, it was better than nothing he thought as he pulled his arm again. It didn't help that his chest was still pulled open from Gaylord's autopsy.

Sam heard the door open from somewhere behind him and turned his head to try and see. Suddenly the table swung upward to be sitting vertically. Gaylord walked around to the front of the table, eyebrow raised. "You're such an odd thing…" The doctor said. "Your chest is ripped open and you don't seem bothered in the least. Do you not feel pain?"

Sam glared and remained stubbornly silent. After the initial shock of being at the hands of a crazy person had worn off Sam had found he wasn't at all scared of Gaylord. What was the worst he could do anyway? Kill him? Someone had beaten him to it about three years ago.

Gaylord frowned a bit. "Still not talking eh? Teenage rebellion I suppose…"

The teen scoffed. He'd outgrown 'teenage rebellion' several years ago. Instead of being prodded to talk more like he'd expected, Gaylord turned away from Sam and made his way to his desk, which was on the side of the room and just far enough back so that Sam couldn't quite see from his current angle.

After several minutes of nothing but the clicks of keys on Gaylord's keyboard, Sam felt the need to end the crushing silence. His mind was racing with different escape plans, each less plausible than the one before it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that his mind shouldn't be racing like it was…that it was going to fast for him to keep up with.

Sam groaned a bit. The last thing he needed right now was to go into a manic episode. Though he guessed he should be glad he even recognized it for what it was in the first place. That meant he was getting better…he hoped that's what it meant at least. "Is something the matter, my dear?" Gaylord asked having heard Sam's groan.

"I'm not your 'dear' so stop calling me that!"

"How can I if I don't know your name?" Gaylord asked sweetly as he came to stand in front of the up-righted table.

Sam scowled. "You can stop calling me everything and let me go."

"Oh now I can't do that." Gaylord argued. "You're going to help me with a little project that I've been working on." Suddenly the table slammed back down, making Sam's head crack against the stainless steel.

Sam glared at the man. "Just because I can't feel it doesn't mean you can slam me around." He said annoyed.

"Ah, so you can't. I thought so." Gaylord said with a smile. "Thank you, for confirming that, my dear."

Sam huffed and looked off to the side. "I'm a boy you know."

Gaylord's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Is that so? How odd then that you have the anatomy of a female." It was clear by his tone of voice that he didn't exactly believe Sam's claim. "Well, either way it hardly changes my designs. You'll be the first step to a much larger world."

"Is that so?" Sam said mockingly.

Gaylord frowned a bit. "It is." He said walking around the table to pick up something from a tray where Sam couldn't see.

As the Doctor passed by, Sam caught the glint of silver lettering on his watch. "HYDRA…" He read quietly. Why did that name seem so ominous to him? And why did he feel like he'd read it before?

Sam cursed his faulty memories as the Doctor came back to the table, syringe with a monstrously thick needle in his hand. "Shall we start then?" He asked. He didn't bother to wait for Sam to reply and jerked his head forward slightly. The needle went straight between the vertebras of Sam's neck, digging in deeply before emptying the thick orange liquid.

Once he was free of Gaylord's hold Sam glared at the Doctor. "And what is that supposed to do?" He asked moving his neck to try and rid himself of the strange feeling of a thick hollow needle thrust into it.

"You'll see."

Sam scoffed. "I doubt it." After all, nothing had ever affected him before.