Still getting over the teeth thing. Sorry to harp, but it *really hurts*. I just finished my story yesterday (I was *almost* done for over a week). I'm glad, because I was getting just a little tired of it. I wonder how real authors can make it through a novel?

Ok, so reviews

Glad you like it, Rex2.

Marye, I guess it would be kind of hard to have Wolverine be friends with *anyone* since he's such a loner, but when you watch the show, you see that he's always really nice to the kids when they need help. Like Rogue in Self-Possessed.

Miracle Chick, whenever you review I always get plenty to read. To be fair, I don't think anyone said "ha ha," to Lance when they told him. But yeah, I know what you mean. Sorry about Freddy and Todd, Miracle, but yeah, they're gone. Don't worry; you can still catch them on the show any given day of the week. As for an epilogue, well I had one that I was working on, and it was coming out *terribly*, so I altered chapter 11 (the next chapter) to be the end. I'll write a little about my epilogue plans after the end.

On with the show! - - -

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Over the next week or two, Lance found that his life was returning to some bizarre kind of normal. It wasn't the normal he was used to, but a normal that included not always being able to sleep the whole night and a normal where he might spend his afternoon throwing up his lunch. It wasn't a great normal, or even a good one, but it was livable.

Logan helped. For some reason that Lance couldn't quite grasp, Logan seemed to be making a pet project out of making Lance feel better. The day that Dr. McCoy had confirmed Lance's fears that he, in fact, did have a chemical burn on the wall of his stomach and would be forced to take medication every morning for the rest of his life, Lance had walked into his room to find a package sitting on his bed. Inside was a note:

Lance,

I thought this might be more effective
at keeping the nightmares away than an
x-acto knife.

Sleep well,

Logan.

Underneath the note was a nightlight.

Even though he was alone at the time, Lance felt an embarrassed flush rush to his cheeks. He hadn't owned a nightlight since he was seven. Still, there was something oddly touching about the fact that Logan had cared enough to go out and buy the thing, and it was probably intended more as a gesture of good will than as something Lance would actually use. A ghost of a smile crossed his face as he placed the nightlight in his bedside table drawer, the same place he once kept the knife.

The two became pretty good friends over many 4:00am talks. Logan always smoked a cigar, and though Lance used to hate the smell, it now seemed kind of nice by association. He even let Lance drink one of his beers once, though he vowed never to do it again, lest the Professor catch him and boot him out on his ass for giving alcohol to a minor.

"You ever watch these things stoned?" Lance asked one night, during a 3:00am infomercial for Wonder Mops. "It's hysterical."

Logan snorted. "Kid, everything is hysterical when you're stoned. Besides, I outgrew that kind of stuff long before the invention of the infomercial."

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me they didn't have infomercials in the 70's."

Logan took another puff on his cigar. "You really have no idea how old I am, do you kid?"

"No." Lance shrugged, "What, 40 maybe?"

"No one knows for certain, but I'm at least 80 years old."

Lance laughed at that. "Oh, yeah right. 80? You're kidding me."

Logan tossed him a sideward glance. "Do I *strike* you as a kidder?"

"Uh --- no." Lance took one last look at Logan before turning his attention back to the TV. 80? He shook his head. Sometimes it was impossible to figure out what Wolverine was trying to pull.

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"Are you ready, Pietro?"

The group of mutant teens and instructors stood out on the lawn of the Xavier Institute, ready to test the powers of the mansion's new resident speed demon. For over a month now, Pietro had been confined to the slow speed of the rest of the world. Now that his cast was off and his leg was strong enough, maybe he could return to living at light speed again, provided his leg wasn't permanently damaged.

Scott stood next to him, giving out orders as he always did. "Alright, remember what Dr. McCoy said. Just try it out. No need to go Mach 5 or anything. To the tree, ok?" Scott raised a little checkered flag with the words 'Good Luck Pietro' embroidered on the side, made by Kitty. "Go!"

Pietro was back before the flag reached Scott's side.

A little cheer whooped up through the crowed. Pietro, ever vain and arrogant, took a bow.

Lance snickered a bit at that. It was really amazing how little Pietro had changed throughout this whole ordeal. He himself sometimes felt like an entirely different person, the old Lance washed away over night after night of tears.

"Hey, what about Lance?"

Startled from his thoughts, Lance looked up. "What about me?"

Kitty stepped forward. "You haven't tried your powers yet."

A deep-set bitterness and resentment settled in on Lance's face. "I don't have my powers anymore," he said. "That chemical they gave me killed them."

"Well you haven't had any of it for, like, more than a month now. Maybe the effects were only temporary," Kitty said. "You have to at least try!"

"Yeah, quake boy, rock our world," Rogue shouted with a laugh.

Lance could see that he was not going to get out of this so easily. Angrily, he kicked a rock through the grass. "I already told you Kitty, I can't!" He turned to storm off into the house.

"Yeah, and with that attitude you never will," she shouted. "It wouldn't hurt anything for you to just try, but you wont! Just because you're afraid!"

Lance spun back around. Afraid, huh? He'd show her. "Fine! If it's *so* important to you to for me to prove they're gone, then I'll try, Ok!?"

Kitty triumphantly crossed her arms over her chest. "Good."

Lance planted his feet on the lawn and dug them into the dirt. She was right. He was afraid. So long as he never tried to use them, it was easy to pretend his powers still existed. As soon as he saw they didn't, the illusion would be shattered. 'Here goes nothing,' he thought, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. 'C'mon, just one little shockwave, that's all I need.' Lance shut his eyes and concentrated. It should begin with a tingle in the back of his brain.

For close to fifteen seconds, there was nothing. Lance simply continued to stand his ground, not relishing the idea of opening his eyes and facing everyone now that they knew he was no longer completely mutant. A feeling like he might cry hit him so hard that he didn't even notice when the ground first started to rumble.

It caught him by surprise at first, the realization that the force of the butterflies in his stomach had just shot down through his shoes. It was just a mild shake at first, but it encouraged him. He had been so sure that his power had been lost forever. It felt so good that Lance couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh harder than he had in months.

"Lance, stop!"

Alarmed, Lance halted the shockwaves flowing from his head to the ground and opened his eye. He then saw what had caused Scott to yell like that. A deep chasm, maybe four feet wide, had opened up at his feet. He blushed. "Uh --- sorry. Got a little carried away, I guess."

Kitty ran up to him and threw her arms around him with such a force that it nearly knocked him over. "I *told* you could do it!" she said. Her forehead rested momentarily against his chin, and for a fleeting second he had the urge to kiss it. He didn't though. A part of him had really liked her once, but that part of him was gone with the rest of Old Lance. "Couldn't have done it without you," he said with a smile.

A loud sound caused Lance to tear his attentions away from Kitty. The other X-Men were all cheering him on too, even the instructors. Feeling kind of foolish, Lance stepped forward and took a clumsy bow, more in mockery of Pietro than out of pride.

The crowed began to disperse and head back to house, where, Lance would wager dollars to doughnuts, someone would bake a congratulatory cake for them. It was simply the X-Men's style to do things like that. He just hoped it wasn't Kitty who planned to do the baking.

Logan came up from behind him and slapped him on the back. "Hey kid, how's it feel?" he asked in his most cheerful voice, which would actually sound pretty morose to anyone who didn't know him well.

Lance shrugged. "Pretty damn good," he said. "I really didn't think it was going to work, but it's great to have my powers back. I'll probably have one hell of a headache tomorrow, though."

"Pietro seemed pretty happy about it too," Logan remarked.

"Oh yeah, well, he hates living at the same pace as the rest of us snails," Lance laughed. "I'm happy for him. I mean, I worked out with him every day, and --- I guess it's just nice to help someone out."

Logan grinned at him. "You did good today, kid."

The two followed the others back to the house, neither of them noticing Professor Xavier just behind. The older man smiled a little before he rolled off to congratulate Pietro on the return of his mutation.

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All right you guys, we've got one more chapter to go. I know that it the Evo. Series, Wolverine can remember his childhood (in the episode Rebirth), but it's a long running tradition of the comics that he doesn't know his exact age. Since he was in WWII, he'd have to be about 80. And in the Origin Series, he's over 100!