ALPHA/OMEGA

Book Two

THREE

It felt like a blow. To be back here, to try and find a way to fit in again, was difficult enough. To have to admit to the Professor that he was unconvinced of his sister's death was painful, especially standing before a granite memorial. To see Scott and have all the same old arguments again was torture. But to look up, and look into the face of his past lover was shocking beyond anything he'd ever experienced. Amazed, he said, "Gabriel?"

The unkempt man before him narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "The name's Logan. And you are?"

"Right! Sorry, sorry. I'm Carl." Recovering, he stuck his hand out, nervous. What would it be like, to touch him after a lifetime of searching? Carl felt certain this was Gabriel, and yet, clearly this man didn't know the name. Could this mean that something terrible had happened to Gabriel, to make him forget his past - again?

The man now named Logan stepped forward. He hesitated a moment before taking Carl's hand. "You're not gonna suddenly tell me my future, are you?"

Carl laughed, trying to dispel some tension. "No! No, it isn't 'The Dead Zone', it doesn't work that way."

Nodding, Logan took his hand and shook it firmly. Carl managed to refrain from shivering. Eagerly, he looked over Logan. He'd cut his hair, Carl thought, faintly sorry for the loss. Also, Gabriel used to be good about shaving. Now he clearly hardly bothered. Still, the silent and dangerous grace was still there, and the piercing eyes. Even his voice was still the same, but lacking the faint Dutch accent. But unfortunately, there wasn't a spark of recognition in his face. Carl realized sadly that this man, this Logan, remembered nothing of the past.

"So! Where are you from, Logan?" Carl tried to maintain some equilibrium. He also tried to keep from leaping at Logan and kissing him senseless. He doesn't remember, Carl repeated to himself over and over.

Logan inhaled deeply, his expression taking on a frowning confusion. "Canada," he answered distantly, as if he wasn't paying attention. He stared piercingly at Carl, and Carl had to resist taking a step backwards.

"Really? You don't have much of an accent. Did you grow up there?" Carl knew he was on the edge of babbling, but really, this was all just too much for him to take in one day.

"What? No. I don't think so." Logan seemed distracted.

"You don't think so? Don't you remember?"

"I don't remember anything before the last fifteen years. What is this, twenty questions?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Carl waved his hands as if to fend off an attack. "Just curious, actually."

"What are you doing in Chuck's office?" Logan asked.

"Chuck?" Carl couldn't restrain a chuckle. "Oh, I bet he just loves that. I'm reviewing student records. I've only got a week to get to know everyone, and see what classes are needed, what level everyone's at, and so forth. And I really don't sleep much, so I figured I might as well get to work. The Professor showed me which files to use."

Logan nodded again. Carl almost smiled. He'd always had to check to see if Gabriel was listening, since the man tended towards taciturn. Logan had the same habits. One of Carl's theories about this man was proving true – his essential personality didn't change.

"Well, don't forget to turn out the light. 'Night." Logan gave Carl one more long look, then sauntered out the door. As soon as the door shut behind Logan, Carl collapsed into a chair. Slowly and with great deliberation, he leaned forward and banged his head against the desk a few times. With a groan, he finally sat back and stared at the ceiling.

When he was twelve, his mutation began to kick in. He would be in the middle of a shower, or a class, or walking down the street, and his brain would be assaulted with visions. Sometimes he'd even collapse, gasping, blinded by scenes of the past or the future. At the same time, his twin sister Jean started having 'fits' that rattled the furniture. Desperate, their parents had taken them to every doctor - and priest! - they could find. Then one day, a man showed up at their home. Professor Charles Xavier. Carl and Jean were whisked away to this ornate mansion in New York, where they found themselves learning about their mutations and developing the powers. Well, Jean did. Carl found himself quickly left behind by his sister's extraordinary abilities. His were neither as powerful nor as useful. His ability to function on three hours of sleep or to absorb and understand the most advanced sciences known to man paled next to Jean's telekinetic ability. His own mutant power, to see the past or the future, was sporadic and uncontrollable, and completely unpredictable. Eventually, Carl gave up trying to develop any powers beyond what he already had. He quit trying to control the visions, but continued to carefully record every one, and concentrated on academics. He was taking college correspondence courses by the time he was fifteen. On his own time, he pieced together every bit of information his visions gave him. Soon, he had a fairly complete view of a very interesting life as a friar and inventor for the Holy Roman Church. And in that life, he remembered his lover, Gabriel Van Helsing. Unfortunately, his obsession with his past drove a wedge between himself and his best friend, Scott Summers. Still, he'd devoted years to the development of specialized glass and optics to control Scott's powerful eyes, freeing the teen from self-imposed blindness. The day Scott could safely open his eyes was a celebration, and it was the day he finally saw Jean for the first time. Carl's sister, compassionate to a fault, fell for Scott just as hard as Scott fell for her, and suddenly, Carl found himself very much out of the loop. It didn't help when he admitted to his friend that he loved a man, even when that love was more than a hundred years old. For a mutant, Scott was remarkably closed-minded about homosexuality.

Carl spun the swivel chair in which he sat, watching the ceiling rotate. It's not that he didn't like women, he did, and found pleasure with a number of them over the years. But ever since his visions reminded him of Gabriel, nothing compared to him.

He'd left the Xavier Institute for a number of reasons, not the least of which was to find Gabriel, searching everywhere. Carl convinced himself that his past lover still lived. He made important contacts in obscure organizations. He'd learned that the Holy Order had disbanded not long before World War Two. He had corresponded privately with Jean, and using visions of the future to ensure financial independence, he paid for Jean's medical school even through she stayed close to Westchester, despite his wish that she'd join him at Yale. Eventually he joined the Talamasca, an organization dedicated to studying the paranormal and supernatural. He met a number of 'closet' mutants, people who thought their abilities were paranormal rather than biological. He constructed theories about Gabriel, equating mutation with Gabriel's unusual abilities. He bent his mind to unraveling the past. He'd nearly reached a point of despair, thinking he'd never track his lover down, when he felt the sudden fragmenting of his sister's spirit. Subsequent conversations with Professor Xavier had led to the teaching position back here. And in returning to his recent past, he'd rediscovered Gabriel at last.

And Gabriel didn't remember him in the least. He didn't even remember being Gabriel. "Well, shit on me," Carl muttered to the ceiling. A grandfather clock in the hall tolled two, and he stuck his tongue out in the general direction of the sound. Rising, he gathered the student academic records and headed for his room.