Disclaimer: Several new characters are mine, including the plot. X-Men belongs to Marvel and Fox.

Jenny: Uh oh.. so the email on the 'Jenny' profile is not you? o.o; Someone has received an odd email then somewhere. . Argh, it was just explaining the stuff that confused you without revealing it to the rest of the readers. Ok, I won't bother explaining anymore x.x; I'm sure you guys will all figure it out as you read :D Well, that about the fluid running out. Don't forget a return date was input into the bracelet. You must read it closely this story x.x

Du Soleil Oriental: You did read the two stories before this didn't you? The War of the World and The Hatred of Hearts? There are a good few Jean references in that. The phoenix stuff has never been a part of this saga; this has focused on the past of the Wolverine and the human's hatred. This is the third story in the saga; you must read the other two first! :D

Chapter 6

The dark was also the scenery for another mutant that night. Not only the Wolverine was prowling these lonely corridors, but also another. She walked the corridors swiftly, turning corners which a gentle swish of her long trench coat. Heeled boots could be heard stalking down corridors ahead, and Logan watched the far distance curiously. His head lifted to inhale, trying to seek out the scent.

But then, he didn't need to, for a figure appeared at the end of his corridor, walking rather fast and it appeared she didn't want to be disturbed.

Tough.

"Hey! Siren!" Called the Wolverine, causing Siren to halt suddenly and turn at the shout.

"What is it, Monsieur?" She asked, watching Logan walk her way.

"It's a bit late ain't it?" Questioned Logan, eyeing Siren, "Almost one in the mornin'.."

"True. But why ask hypocrite questions?" Siren replied with a small smirk, "You too awake. I assume Wolverine no tired?"

"I frequently have late nights." Logan responded haughtily, a hint of a snarl gracing his tone, "It's what I do. Whereas you? Don't you need beauty sleep or somethin'?" Logan chuckled at his own joke..

..Whereas Siren just raised an unimpressed brow, "Less of the attitude Monsieur Logan. Siren injured once, she will injure again."

Logan waved a finger her way, "Is that a threat?" He snarled.

"Maybe." Purred Siren with a chuckle.

"So.. where were you goin'?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were heading for the main doors. Why are you leaving so late?"

A soft chuckle, "Siren wasn't leaving the building.."

"I can smell it when people lie."

"Interesting.." Siren muttered with a frown.

"Ain't it.."

"Siren will be getting to sleep now." She explained hurriedly, changing her course of direction.

"Hah, I caught ya didn't I? Where were you goin'?" Asked Logan, his arms folding as he continued to persist his questions.

"Nowhere." Replied Siren austerely, quickly departing towards the staircase, trying to escape the enquiry.

"Right.." Muttered Logan doubtfully, watching the woman hurry away up the steps. A sudden idea occurred, "Hey! Siren! Have you seen Roxanne?"

Siren paused at the top of the steps, looking down to him, "The new one? Silver hair?"

"Yeah."

"She walked past me a few minutes ago, completely blanked me."

"Where was she going?"

"No sure.. around the kitchen area I think. She did not look happy. I would leave her alone if I were you, Monsieur." Siren explained, a smirk on her face, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"Y'got that right." Logan admitted under his breath.

"Goodnight Monsieur Logan." Called Siren, nodding to him before she turned to continue departing.

"Yeah.. Night Adrienne."

Moonlight flowed in gently through the open windows of the Wolverine's room. White nets billowed gently upon the panels of glass, fluttering lightly in the warm breeze that travelled in. A disgruntled noise uttered from the body in the bed, which was in a state of entrapment amongst the duvet covers. Logan turned gently within the wrappings of his twisted duvet. A quiet murmuring droned from his throat as he moved..

It was all too familiar.. the insertion of equipment into limbs, the background hum of machine and voices. No matter how many times the adamantium past came into his dreams. The pain and anger was still alive within every second his memories were replayed. Still he was trapped in the tank, crying out mutely through the gloomy liquid. Silent curses were sent to the masked face of Stryker, but his throat tightened to let out an inaudible scream of pain.

But suddenly, the dark surroundings blurred and the voices of Stryker and his crew left him, the bubbling of adamantium silencing. Within the dream he woke up, staring across the bed to see a sleeping figure beside him. No shock was felt. It was right, correct and natural. And, for some reason, completely expected. He craned his head lightly to view the room. It was not the room at the mansion. It was quite the opposite. The room was light and refreshing, once modern appliances scattering the bedroom. Logan glanced back down to the figure beside him in the bed. The striking spray of silver hair across the cream pillow made it obvious. He found himself smiling at her sleeping form before he lifted the covers and exited the bed as quietly as he could, but Roxanne stirred gently, turning round to spread out across the extra space. Logan rose off the edge of the bed, giving a mighty stretch of his limbs.

No cracking of joints..

He made a sleepy sort of mumble before he yawned and eyed the luminous alarm clock on the bedside table. 8.20am He ran a hand idly through his hair before he progressed to the window to idly peer out. His eyes scanned over a small street. Identical houses in neat rows were situated opposite the narrow road. Rows of trees were positioned in sequence. Sand coloured slabs of the pavement surrounded soiled bottoms. His eyes travelled over the familiar scene and watched as a boy strolled by lugging his bag of newspapers behind him and up driveways to the doors.

His eyes scanned over the street a little more, a general check at how the street was reacting to the new morning. Then, a hazy blur whipped across the image as memories became bombarded by reality. He straightened from the window as he felt something cold press against the back of his neck. He turned to peer over his shoulder..

A small noise escaped the throat of the Wolverine who had now shifted completely and was now sprawled out upon his front; head gently snuggled into the pillow. It appeared happier memories were meaning sleep was pleasant. He mumbled again.. Something was disturbing him from sleep. Eyes squinted gently as he was lured from the confinements of deep sleep, and reality was brought upon him heavily as the pressing of coldness to his neck continued. Finally his eyes dragged themselves upon, and an immediate wash of coldness flooded through him at the touch to the back of his neck. His breathing escalated, panicked breaths panting. He suddenly spun round off his front, ready to face whatever was happening. The coldness had vanished. The room was empty of any person. He frowned and gently shuffled over the bed, as if trying to seek out something invisible by getting closer. As he moved, his hip caught something cold. His eyes spun down and he lifted his hip free.

A gun.

He saw his door swinging gently.

He always left it shut.

A small growl and he threw down a hand and grabbed the gun. He streaked out of the covers, leaping free of the duvet and out into the dark corridor. He slammed his door fully back as he pursued through, stopping abruptly as his feet met the plush royal blue carpet. His head spun to the left, then to the right. His hand still clasped around the gun handle. His head lowered to sniff the handle. Whoever had held it had masked their scent. He growled, annoyed at his usual trusty method. There was no way he could define any peculiar scent amongst the hundred's that resided here. It would just have to be a search based on sound. His ears were intensely tuned in. Within a second he was sprinting down to the right. He heard a second noise as he reached the corridor end his head whirled abruptly to the left to see a figure walking his way. At Logan's speedy and silent approach the figure in the darkness screamed out her surprise. A quick inhale revealed it as Storm. She came forward, hand on chest, casting a scolding glare at him before she began to talk, "Logan? Did you hear someone up too? Some students running around the corridors.. at this time.. it's going on four in the morning. Did you hear – "Storm fell silent from her hushed ramblings as she noticed the gun in his hand, "That's a bit drastic." Storm commented wryly a brow rising at what she supposed was Logan's new method to get students to bed.

A growl caused her attention to focus back on him, "It's no student." He muttered, looking around the corridors, "Someone came in my room with this." He gestured the gun violently.

"What?" Gasped Storm quietly, brows lifting in surprise, "Are you sure?"

"Sure as hell. And their intentions were obvious." He snarled, continuing to walk. Who didn't like him? Well, he quickly found as answer to that. Scott. But Scott didn't hate him enough.. to kill him, did he?

No, no way. Scott was law-abiding and strict. His views were always rational and honourable. No matter how much effort he put into his fights against enemies, he would never turn against a team member. As Logan stalked down the corridors with Storm in tow, he pondered on expressing his view to her on Scott. But he knew the response could probably get him more enemies and likely to be marched out of school for accusing such things on a respected man.

He was snapped abruptly out of his thoughts when he heard distant running and a slamming door. With a growl he leapt out of his jog into an incredible sprint. It took Storm by surprise. She delayed and her slower run together meant she was losing distance between them. Logan disappeared around the corner, Form speedily vanishing out of Storm's sight. She hurried as fast as she could after him. But she skidded to a halt when she turned the corner herself to see Logan stood still, glaring down the corridor.

"They are in one of these rooms.."

All of a sudden, footsteps behind them caused both Storm and Logan to turn. Scott dived out of the shadows with fingers pressed to his visor, ready to blast the life out of the supposed intruders. Storm visibly jumped and made a hushed scream. Logan snorted heavily at the approach of Scott, "Do you mind?" He snarled.

Scott straightened, his hand lowering, "I heard someone scream."

"Scott!" Called a voice and Scott turned to see Aurora following up.

"Aurora."

Then another voice joined, "Well, this is a nice congregation." Announced a sultry French accent. Siren joined from the other corner. A large group of mutants had now joined at this corridor end. Logan made a heavy sigh. The stalking was getting disrupted.

"I heard someone scream." Repeated Scott persistently, nodding his head to show his assurance.

"I did too." Aurora muttered, glancing from Scott to Logan.

"Oui, Siren did get interrupted from her sleep."

"But someone screamed!" Announced Scott.

That was getting to be old news..

"Shut the hell up!!" Barked Logan, his hands raising and dropping sharply as he exclaimed his annoyance. Every voice fell deadly silent and every eye went upon him, "Thank you." Growled Logan scathingly. He lifted the gun and set about explaining occurrences to the small group of awakened X-Men, "I was woken with someone pointing this at me. When I woke, they fled and left this accidentally. I followed them out. They are now in one of the rooms down here.."

All listened intensely to his words, before Scott piped out, "But someone screamed! Did you scream?" He enquired to Logan. Then continuing with disgust, "I didn't know you had a scream like that.. Was it you?"

"No!" Logan heatedly declared, almost turning the gun upon the annoying mutant and his repetitive, useless input to the situation, "It was Storm." The gun was idly gestured her way in indication; "I surprised her when I came round the corner."

"Yeah.. Um.. Logan. Will you watch where you're pointing that thing." Storm muttered, eyes watching the barrel end being waved over her way.

"Sorry." He muttered, shoving the gun inside his large belt, trapping it between the leather and his old jeans, "Just all shut up, will you?" He glanced round at the group, "An assassin is on the loose." He turned to eye the corridor before glancing round his shoulder arrogantly, "And is one deranged enough to try and attack me." Logan added with a smirk, "Cos I'm gonna strip 'em 'o their guts when I find 'em."

Storm swallowed nervously at Logan's description. All heads turned again as a pair of footsteps joined them from behind. A belated arrival of Michael who was watching the group in awe, "Somebody screamed!"

People say that patience can be hanging by a thread..

They're right.

Logan's nose twitched gently at the comment, "Yes." He admitted sternly, hand gripping the gun. He glanced up suddenly when he saw Roxanne hurry behind Michael, glancing around at the group.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Somebody screamed." Said Scott.

Logan had to hold his breath to prevent swearing.

"Look, this gathering is all very well." Said Siren softly, a roll of eyes being made, "But instead of talking how about some action, peut-être."

A few eyes glanced her way. Siren nodded with a raised brow, "Oui, avance! Avance!" She gestured down the corridor, "Avance!" She said again before Logan sighed and at her words, turned and began to walk down the corridor. The other grouped X-Men in tow.

Roxanne followed behind, remaining very quiet and somewhat sheepish with her eyes lowered..

Weee, how was that? I hope people understand his memory x.x