Hello, regular readers. I have not forgotten my regular story, but ... this popped up and hold my muse right now. So. That's where I am. It was born from a quick thought of - what if. What if Logan adopted a very worthy little orphan? So much strife could have been avoided, and how would it pan out? Enjoy!

Chapter One: Avoiding Bad Beginnings

The incident with the Hulk had been the last straw. Heather and James Hudson had been a Godsend, but Logan knew he wasn't doing them any good just hanging around the way he was. For one thing, he was pretty sure that whatever it was between himself and Heather was starting to drift away from 'friends'. And he didn't want to get in the middle any worse than he already had.

When he'd met the Hudsons, they had just gotten married - and instead of honeymooning like any other couple, they spent the duration - and most of the time since then - trying to make him into more than what he thought he was.

They'd done better by him than he thought he deserved … and far better than anyone he could remember - not that the list was long there either. But Logan's memory never really was his best attribute.

Recently, Logan had been battered worse from that big green bastard than anything that he could remember - short of the metal fusing to his skeleton, of course.

But he didn't want to think about that. Thinking about that just made him hurt all over. It seemed to start as a migraine and just … he wasn't going to think about that if he could help it.

He was tired of waiting for Department H to point him at one massive disaster or another. The kind of missions they were sending him on were getting increasingly more and more disturbing and he couldn't shake the feeling that they were trying to test his boundaries. To make matters more interesting, it seemed that Department H knew they were losing his focus.

They even went so far was to offer him the leadership position on what they said was Canada's answer to the Avengers. But outside of not liking how things were going - he really didn't think he had what it took to head them up. A memory-less near animal? No. That wasn't a decent leadership option. That was an obvious baited trap.

Department H had not taken his resignation well. At all. And since he'd left, they had sent several teams out to try and bring him in, but he just wasn't going to let that happen. What had surprised Logan was how quickly the Hudsons had encouraged him to get moving - Mac even went so far as to empty out his wallet and give him all the cash he had on him while Heather encouraged him to empty out his accounts and just go.

So even they knew things weren't kosher with the Department.

All that was over a year ago and he still had nothing real to show for his troubles. Well, nothing more than a beat up old motorcycle that leaked oil badly enough that he had to top it off every time he stopped for gas.

He had enough to keep himself going. And he stopped his traveling and would work when he needed more money. That or Heather seemed to make sure that the card she'd sent him off with had a balance on it … just in case.

Logan had been riding hard for over a week, still with zip for ideas on where the heck he was headed when he pulled into the little diner on the north side of Omaha. He'd just sat back and scrubbed his hand over his face as the waitress poured up his third cup of coffee. He was trying to will himself into picking a damn destination when a scent hit him that had the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

Cautiously he looked up without picking up his head to see if he recognized the source.

Aside from the waitress and the cook, there was an old man in a booth alone … a young couple that looked like they were splitting a meal and a milk shake … a booth full of workmen … and a tall dark haired guy that he was sure he'd never seen before.

But as the man passed him by on his way to the counter, it was clear that he was indeed the source of the scent that had him concentrating hard not to growl outright. Just like that, his heart ticked up a notch and he found himself nervous.

Logan tried to force himself to relax. If this guy was as dangerous as he felt … there was no reason to draw attention. No. That's … I've taken on the flamin' Hulk, he reminded himself. What the hell could this pencil-pushin' geek do? He pointedly pushed down the irrational reaction and went back to his coffee.

But the longer he smelled that scent … the more irritated he got. This guy wasn't in the group at Weapon X. He also didn't have anything to do with Department H .. or at least. He didn't smell familiar in that right.

"Mr. Pearson," the waitress said with a fond smile. "Nice to see you getting some fresh air before dark. It's got to be so hard to get a moment to yourself cooped up in that orphanage all the time."

A little electrical jolt ran down Logan's spine as the waitress and this … Pearson continued their familiar conversation consisting of nothing but small talk about the goings on around town and at this orphanage where the man worked. But the name wasn't ringing any bells.

And it didn't feel right. Something about this guy just set wrong with Logan. Frustration with no solid source rose up in his chest - irritating him far worse than the irrational fear.

When the waitress made her rounds, Logan was surprised to find himself suddenly careful not to speak, though he had been his usual self, almost flirting with the pretty little blonde before Pearson walked in.

He wasn't bothered enough to feel compelled to leave, though and instead, he just kept drinking his coffee, listening in, and waiting for the doctor to finish up and leave first. Thank God he had a newspaper to pretend to read.

It wasn't too terribly long before the guy got up to go, and when he did, Logan was relieved for it. He should have just gotten on his bike and headed out. He should have not listened to how the locals talked about the enigmatic looking doctor that ran 'The State Home for Foundlings'.

The name made him cringe. It was too formal. It didn't fit the town. It sounded too ...old. ALmost from a different time altogether. And that ...that … just didn't sound like an orphanage to him. He let a few minutes pass before he decided to check the guy out.

One thing he was grateful for with his mutation was the fact that it allowed him the luxury of being able to wait to follow someone. He didn't need to be sneaky or look suspicious if he didn't want to. And in a strange town with at least one strange character … why would he?

The walk wasn't too long, and when the orphanage came into view, the first thing he noticed was the miserable appearance of the children outside in the middle of a sweltering Nebraska day. The kids gathered on the sorry excuse for a playground parted like the Red Sea as Pearson approached, all of them looked pale and kept their gazes to the ground. All of them but one boy, who just seemed to be studying the administrator as much as he was doing to the boys.

A low growl rose up in the back of his throat and he decided to get a closer look. He had no idea why, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let this creep wander around kids without knowing why he bothered him so much.

That was the plan anyhow. To watch and wait.

But as soon as the dark haired man disappeared into one of the buildings, the atmosphere on the playground shifted to one more appropriate for boys of that age. At least … it was more familiar than the strict fear response that Logan had just seen moments before.

He lit up a cigar and took a seat on a park bench across from the orphanage, in the shade of the trees and not facing the kids, instead watching out of the corner of his eyes as the biggest and clearly meanest of the boys started picking on one of the smaller ones.

Logan snubbed out his cigar and got up to see what he could about getting into the place. The kids fighting would just make for a good distraction for anyone that should be 'official.'

He slipped around to the far side of the building, and as luck would have it, the playground fight broke out in earnest as he found where he'd like to slip in. Wouldn't be hard. Just slip a claw through the crack in the door and shear off the mechanism holding it shut. He waited to hear the rush of adults leaving the building before he slipped inside and started following that scent.

He pressed himself into a recessed area by a door as he heard a few more kids rushing by … and stiffened entirely when the scent intensified and passed him by - though this time, it wasn't coming from Pearson. It was coming off a kid.

He shook his head then shifted to watching, stalking closer to see what was happening. For the first time ever, he found himself questioning his own abilities. But again, the growl was rising up in the back of his throat and he found himself swallowing hard to stifle it as he stalked the oddly scented 'boy'.

From around a corner, he saw the kid that stunk like antiseptic, blood, and English tea - a winning combination for any doctor, but for a kid?

That's not right, Logan thought to himself as he watched the the strange boy talking to a scrawny brown haired boy. It's just not possible.

He found himself slipping into what he assumed was an office of some sort as a kind looking woman in a lab coat broke up the group of kids. He locked the door and just leaned against the wall away from the threat of anyone walking in, breathing heavily as the confusion and panic at everything he was trying to process hit him.

But he couldn't ignore the conversation that the antiseptic boy was having just outside the door. Logan of course had no idea who the boys were talking about - though it sounded like the kid in question was the one that had been bullying outside. 'Nate' was pushing his friend to skip the nurses' station … and help him go after the older boy. But it was pretty obvious 'Scott' wasn't buying it.

"I'll see you later, Nate," Scott said as someone led him down the hall, the sounds of sneakers on tile echoed the hallway alongside the click of high heels. The adults are breaking it up, Logan thought.

He listened as Nate let out a sound of irritation and headed across the hall from where he was hiding. The sound of a door opening and closing was plain. Logan let out a centering breath, ready to get out of the strange place, when he heard the boy's footsteps suddenly sound a lot louder. Heavier. He waited for the sound to retreat before he cracked the door open and took a peek. Pearson. Not the boy. What's more, when he crossed the hall to where Nate had disappeared, the room was empty and only the tainted antiseptic scent remained.

For a moment, Logan just took in the sounds and scents in the building as he frowned at the empty room. When he was sure no one was going to run into him, he started after the scent. He made it two hallways over before the scent concentrated in an odd spot with no visible door. With a frown, he found himself unable to keep following - though if he had time he'd be able to find what had to be a hidden trigger or latch.

But … as the sounds of approaching, joking boys began to echo the halls, it was clear that now was not the time. He rushed out of the building via a nearby window with a plan to come back after dark and investigate further.

He didn't want to, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get it out of his head if he ignored it.