Disclaimer: I dunno if I have one of these already, but either way, I don't own Xmen, Gattaca, or any other somewhat familiar thing!
A/N: Thanks guys sooooo much for all your wonderful reviews!!! Y'all are really what keep me inspired to continue! Sorry about the long delay last week, reality and the cold bug both caught up and bit me in the behind last week, but I'm up and running again! :D Anywho, I love the reviews (I swear I'm addicted to them!) so whatever you do, please don't stop reviewing!!!!! Ok, well, that settled, On with the story!!!!
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Cigar smoke made the dim lights of the bar seem even dimmer and the loud ruckus of the small-town crowd made the place seem so typical to Logan. He'd been to plenty of these places over the last twenty years or so. 'Wow, twenty years,' He thought sentimentally for a moment before taking another swig of his beer. He still didn't look a day older and still didn't know all that much more about himself since he had woken up that morning amongst the snow drifts with no memory of anything prior. Oh well.
If anything, Logan was nearing depression. He'd seen what had happened to the mansion a dozen days before, and had felt…well, guilty. He had done a pretty good job bailing the kids out last time, but he hadn't been there for them this time.
The headlines had blown the Xavier story out of proportion. They declared it a 'terror cell', and claimed not only did it kidnap mutant children to teach them how to bring down humans, but they were responsible for the recent attacks. In fact, Xavier's school was the big talk of every pompous politician and opinionated opportunist the stations could dig up. Heck, they'd even found some teenage girl Logan had never seen nor heard of before with obviously dyed bye hair to come on and claim she'd been a student at the school until she learned their 'real intentions'.
Logan snorted at the thought.
The middle-aged waitress gave him a raised eyebrow to which he sneered back at. Not to be particularly rude or anything, but he wasn't having the best of days. He was pretty much back at square one. HE was in a bar in northern Canada. Consequently, he was fairly close to where it had all started. Not where his dilemma had taken place, but where Rogue had hitched a ride in the back of his car. And of course where the 'high and mighty' x-men had rescued him, if you could really call it that. He sighed.
There was a quite clear fork in his road. He could go back, try and save them, be all noble – probably get arrested for mutation, as he heard they were doing now down in the States. Or, he could stay up here, start back again on trying to piece everything back together.
Getting frustrated with himself, Logan ordered up another beer. Maybe he'd break his record, get drunk, and maybe succeed at killing himself one of these days. Though he doubted the success of the last part of his plan. He had tried plenty of times as he had told Rogue once, and did he have a single scar to show for it? Nope.
"Don't ya think you've had enough?" The waitress asked, holding his beer just out of reach.
Logan stared up at her. "I think I'll be the judge o' that." He growled.
The waitress gave a roll of her eyes and handed him the beer. "Men," she muttered, walking away.
Logan lowered his gaze to the foamy top of his amber colored beverage. He had a dilemma indeed.
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"Attention!" A figure yelled over a bullhorn.
Brian stole a glance around. They were gathering the InValids, he had noticed. There was probably several hundred gathered out in the sand. He was assuming there were no mutants among the group, but he couldn't be sure. He did know the they hadn't take Ice from his cell.
"You all are here for a reason," The figure stated from where they stood on a small, white platform.
Brian's attention focused back on the speaker at the sound of their voice.
"You all have been at this point sorted into Level 1. You all are the InValids who are still considered at a low enough danger level to continue work. Some of you may have noticed we are already running out of space, having to store the mutants in normal cells with all of you. That is why you will participate in the new containment cells!" The voice declared, with a false sense of enthusiasm.
"Just kill the bloody freaks!" A man closer to the front shouted. Several others voiced their agreement with the man.
The speaker turned towards the man, and paused before replying. "You do realize that would involve terminating all of you, now don't you?" The voice asked with poorly masked amusement.
The crowd fell silent.
"That's better." The speaker replied. "Now, Those of you that have been here for seven days or longer report to the B-block, those between three and six days over to C-Block, and the rest the Block D."
No one moved for a second, and the speaker then gave a sharp yell that got everyone moving again.
Brian made his way through the crowd towards B-Block, as of today he had been in the camp for seven days. When he arrived, he noticed that the B block definitely had a minority of members compared to the C and even E blocks. Which meant one quite obvious thing- the camp was growing, and rapidly at that.
His block consisted of seventy or so members, the oldest looked to be in their thirties. On older man stood out for being in his mid-forties. On the opposite end of the scale, the youngest was a young girl, whom looked like she was a mere eight years old. Brian crouched down next to her and asked her name.
"Emily," she replied timidly. As Brian looked closer at her, he was shocked to see the unnatural looking neon green and red flecks that ran through her eyes. As she stared at him with her large, unusual eyes, he found himself asking very quietly what she could do.
To this she gave a tiny smile, "I can see through things!" She said proudly.
Brian smiled at her enthusiasm. The whole 'mutant' thing had seriously creeped him out a mere few days before, but know, he felt sorry for the innocent looking little girl. Before he could say anything else, a man came by with a clipboard and gruffly held out a testing machine, wordlessly instructing them to slip their fingers in for testing. Brian went first and the man noted something down of his clipboard before telling Brian to go over to where a large number of guys were gathered. Brian obeyed, stealing a glance back at the little girl towards whom he felt so much pity.
A shriek from inside the crowding of people pulled back his attention, and mainly due to curiosity, he pressed himself forward through the circled of people. Oddly though, they seemed plenty happy to move aside for him, and with out him realizing it, he stumbled into the cleared out center of the group just as everyone seemed to take a good two steps back.
As he needlessly attempted to brush the dirt off the front of his already grubby jeans, he didn't notice the looks the people in the center gave him. It was very close to the looks a hungry predator would give it's prey before pouncing. He heard someone in front of him give a cold laugh and he looked up. What he saw horrified him.
