ALPHA/OMEGA

Book Two

SEVEN

Logan watched, feeling surly, as Carl prepared a syringe of yellow fluid gleaned from a pint of Logan's blood. The other man had not explained why Logan's blood was so important, or useful, or how he knew exactly what to do with it. Or what the hell that 'source' comment meant.

Carl cleaned off the crook of Scott's elbow, and carefully injected the serum into the moaning man. Within moments, Scott ceased writhing. His moans subsided to labored breathing. He still sweated, and still did not speak.

Carl sighed in relief. "It's working. I was afraid..."

"Afraid of what?"

Carl just shook his head, putting away medical supplies. Soon, he turned to Scott, loosening the man's bindings and clothing, and pulling a light blanket over him. He checked Scott's pulse and nodded. Motioning for Logan to precede him, the two men left the clinic, Carl dimming the lights.

"He's falling asleep, and that's the best thing right now," Carl said to Logan in the hall. "We should report to the Professor. He'll be relieved."

Logan grabbed Carl as the ad began to walk away. "No. You tell me right now -- What the hell did that 'source' comment mean? How did you know that my blood could heal him, and if you knew it could, what were you worried about?"

Carl looked at the hand on his arm, then up at the taller man. Logan noted with interest that Carl's eyes dilated slightly when he looked at Logan. With a sigh, Carl said, "Logan. I swear to you that I will explain everything eventually. But right now, Professor Xavier and Storm and Kurt deserve to know that Scott will recover. And there's a pack of werewolves loose in Nevada created by Magneto who seems to have found a source of werewolf venom. Once, there was an organization that took care of such things, and I would say just notify them and be done with it, but the Holy Order is as extinct as werewolves are supposed to be, and I'm willing to bet Professor Xavier is going to make this OUR problem. We need to get a move on."

Logan weighed his words carefully, finally releasing him. "OK. But you and me are gonna have a LONG talk, soon."

Carl gave him an odd, sad little smile and shrugged.

----------

Professor Xavier did indeed decide that this was a problem they had to solve. However, once he made that pronouncement, he leaned back and let the team hash out a plan.

"Look, I figure even with the variation that the mutations give, they can still only be killed one way -- silver." Carl seemed to be in lecture mode.

Storm made a face. "You mean to tell me that all the stories are true? Moonlight, silver, werewolves? What's next, vampires?"

Carl shuddered. "You better hope not." Ignoring her shocked expression, he went on. "We don't even have to find out Magneto's plan, just go in and exterminate the werewolves."

"These are people! Can you not save them as you have saved Scott?" Kurt was appalled by Carl's blunt assessment. "I thought you were a man of God," Kurt grumbled.

Carl shook his head. "I'm not. But at any rate, I just don't think there's anything we can do to save them. If they were in wolf form in a dark cavern, then my guess is that there's something about being mutants that changes the normal parameters of being werewolves."

Logan blinked. In his dream, the fight was in a dark cavern. "Are you sure?"

Carl frowned. "Sure of what?"

"Sure that being able to be in wolf form underground is NOT normal? Maybe there are things about werewolves - were-creatures - you don't know."

Carl seemed to give it some thought. "It's possible. But, you said that your claws didn't kill them, and Scott's eyes couldn't kill them, so we'll still have to assume that silver is the only way."

"I still think ve should try and save these people."

"Kurt, under any other circumstance, I would agree with you wholeheartedly. For a time, a werewolf could be captured and cured."

"There's a cure?" Storm gasped, interrupting.

"Er, there was." Carl hemmed, avoiding looking at Logan. "But, these attacked without provocation. I'm going to guess that we can't.... Oh bloody hell." He sighed. "Tell you what. I'll see what I can do about a cure. I'll also get us enough silver ammunition to take care of things if necessary. We should try and find another entrance to that cavern system. If Magneto is experimenting, there has to be a lab or clinic somewhere, right? Storm, can you see what sort of satellite data we can snag?" She nodded. "As the pilot, you'll fly us there and stick to the jet." Before she could protest, he went on. "Even with the size of those caves, you need access to the atmosphere to use your powers. You'd just be in danger."

"Vhat about me?"

"Snatch and grab, my friend. If we find another entrance, a lab of some sort, you'll pop anything useful like a hard drive back to the jet. How are you in combat situations?"

"He's a hand-to-hand man," Logan said. Kurt nodded at this assessment.

"Any good with knives?" Carl asked.

Kurt frowned. "I can, if necessary, break a man's neck vith my hands. But I am not comfortable vith weapons."

Carl frowned as well. "That's not good. Well, I'll get you a brace of knives anyway." Finally, he turned to Logan. "I supposed you have your own special combat style."

With a smirk, Logan caused one particular blade to pop out of his knuckles.

"Funny. But adamantium is not silver." He bit his lip, thinking. "I'll get a full arsenal for myself. Glocks maybe? Clips full of silver. None of you are gun people?" He sighed. "Right, so it looks like you and I, Logan. You'll be mainly back up, keeping me from being bitten. If it comes down to it, I lead, I take all the killing shots. It takes at least three bullets to central mass to kill a werewolf."

"Are you certain you want to take this risk?" The Professor suddenly asked, joining the conversation again. His eyes bore concern and compassion as he looked at Carl.

Carl met the professor's gaze, and for a moment, the two seemed to have a private conversation. Logan watched closely as Carl paled, then shuddered. Suddenly he said, "It doesn't matter. It has to be done. Give me a private, secure phone line and thirty six hours."

"Use my office." The Professor's voice was even, but laden with something like regret.

Carl entered the clinic. He could see Scott's chest rising and falling evenly. Gently, Carl released the restraining straps, and checked Scott's pulse. Satisfied, he set Scott's regular glasses near to hand, and carefully removed the combat visor. Scott sighed and shifted, then raised a hand to rub his face.

"Hello?"

"Good morning." Carl put the glasses into Scott's outstretched hand. "Well, actually, good middle-of-the-night. How do you feel?"

"Rotten." Scott put on the glasses and turned to Carl. "What happened? I remember the werewolf biting me, and Nightcrawler getting me to the jet, but then.."

"You were poisoned with werewolf venom. The team got you back here."

Scott frowned. "Am I OK now?"

Carl nodded. "You'll probably need, oh, bed rest for another day or two, and take it easy for a while after that. We ... we were able to use Logan's blood to create a serum to counteract the poison."

Carl busied himself with shuffling supplies, avoiding Scott's gaze. "If you want, I'll help you get back to your own room."

"I hate it when you pull this shit!" Scott suddenly said, exasperated.

"What?"

"It's Logan, isn't it? Jean said, we'd have no way of knowing how old he was, and he doesn't remember. But you do." He sniggered at Carl's shocked expression. "The way you say his name, you've got it bad."

Carl backed away, his expression wary. "Look, I don't want to get into this right now. You need your rest, I need mine. We're going back in there as soon as we can get ready. Let me just help you to your room, ok?"

"How did you know?"

"What?"

"How did you know he was alive? Was it a vision? You -- you just let me think that you were delusional, insane, wasting your life away on the past. And then you left! You snuck out, middle of the night, no note, you just took off!" Scott's voice rose in agitation. "Jean cried every day until your letter came, and then she didn't let me read it. I had to sit there and wonder what the hell happened."

"What happened?!? How about my BEST FRIEND calling me a faggot?!? Calling me names over something I had NO control over, my powers! Talk about the kettle calling the pot black!" Carl shouted, shaking. "I trusted you, and you threw it all into my face, and then you tried to turn Jean, my twin, the only other person on this rotten planet I trusted, against me! You made my life here HELL!"

"I was scared. I was a kid."

"Of what? That I might hit on YOU?" Carl laughed bitterly. "Didn't I say, there was and always will be only one person for me? You betrayed my trust." He stopped suddenly. With a violent shake of his head, he said, "I am not getting into this with you tonight. You can get yourself to bed." With that, he stormed out of the clinic. He didn't know where he was going. Eventually finding himself outside, he made his way to the granite slab memorializing his sister. "Ah, Jeannie," he sighed, leaning against the stone. "What am I going to do? Tomorrow, the past is going to come back, and I have to make sure it doesn't repeat itself." He turned to press his cheek against the memorial. "Jeannie, I'm so scared."

"HEY! SOMEBODY GET PROFESSOR GREY!"

"Jesus, Jubes, don't scream," Charles Wallace complained from his habitual place in front of the TV.

"Watch your tongue, Charles Wallace," Storm scolded. He shrugged and blinked to the next channel. She went to the door, shooing Jubilee away, and eyed the young delivery driver standing there. "I am a teacher here, can I help you?"

"I have three priority packages for a Professor Carl Grey? My instructions are, only he can sign for them."

Just then Carl came barreling down the stairs. "I'm here! Right here!" Despite the afternoon hour, he was dressed in sweats and a baggy tee-shirt, looking underslept and haggard. He signed for the packages quickly and sent the delivery man on his way.

"What are they?" Storm asked, as Kurt popped in, curious.

Carl smiled weakly. "Supplies."

Logan found Carl in the compound's workout room. He glanced at the three opened boxes on the floor. The first held a professional gun case, opened to reveal two darkly gleaming Barrettas. The second smaller box appeared to be full of clips. Logan assumed the ammo was silver plated at least. The last box was a sword case, long and narrow. He could see several knives of varying style strapped to the inside of the lid, all of the blades apparently silver. The main body of the case held a pair of wakasashis, sheathed, and a long space for a sword. Logan's gaze didn't linger on the boxes. He found the sight in the middle of the room far more interesting.

Carl stood, shirtless, poised with a remarkable sword in his hands. Carefully, he swung the blade up over his head, stepping one foot back. As Logan watched, Carl moved as if in slow motion, shifting positions and guiding the sword through an intricate pattern. He began to speed up, until the movements were fluid and swift, the sword a flash of light in the air.

Entranced, Logan felt his chest tighten. He also felt the blood rush to his groin. The dreams had been more vivid than ever last night, and the dream lover seemed to take on a resemblance to Carl that Logan couldn't deny. He still hadn't had a chance to speak to the Professor about his dreams, and he'd come down here meaning to confront Carl about what the man might know about Logan. There were too many secrets around Carl, and Logan wanted to get to the bottom of them. But watching Carl now, he realized that maybe his subconscious had been trying to tell him something a bit more basic than just illuminating his past.

Finally, Carl wound to a stop, panting a little. He looked up, and jumped to see Logan standing in the door, staring.

"Hey. Sorry. Didn't see you there. I was just, um, practicing. It's Tai Chi."

"I thought Tai Chi was something little old asian women did in parks."

Chuckling a little, Carl wiped the sword down and sheathed it. "It is. But like Karate, there are multiple forms. This is the sword form." He kept glancing up at Logan, nervously. "My -- friends -- really came through, huh? All the blades are silver-plated. The bullets are hollow tip silver-plated, full of silver nitrate. The best werewolf-killing supplies technology can provide." He was definitely trying to divert Logan with talk.

The big man stepped closer, drinking in the scent of Carl. God, he was intoxicated by the scent. Carl crouched to put the sword back in the case, but when he stood, Logan was barely two feet away.

Logan paused, licking his lips. The movement caused Carl's eyes to widen a bit, and he shifted as if nervous. "Storm says you're gay." Logan immediately wanted to kick himself. That's NOT what he wanted to say, and certainly not the WAY he could have said it.

Carl winced and immediately took a step back. "I've -- I've slept with women and men, if that's what you mean."

Logan shook his head. "Let's say, I have this friend, who thinks he might be attracted to another man. What should he do?"

Carl smiled wryly. "He can do one of two things. Suppress it, hide his attraction, pray it goes away. Or, take a chance. Let the other guy know he's interested. Maybe he'll be lucky."

Logan nodded, thinking it over. Aw, hell, who gives a shit, he thought. He reached out, catching the back of Carl's neck and pulled him close. He briefly noted the startled expression on Carl's face as he leaned in and kissed him, forcefully and thoroughly.

There!

Something snapped in Logan's chest with the first touch of their lips. He inhaled sharply, and that familiar scent coupled with the feelings that surged up flooded his brain, and he had this sudden sense of homecoming, of something inside sighing 'at last!' Almost overwhelmed, he let go of Carl, just as the other man brought up his hands to cling to Logan's shirt.

"Gabriel." Carl sighed.

"Who's Gabriel?" Logan growled, frowning. Not a good sign when the person you just kissed whispers someone else's name.

Carl's eyes snapped open, and he made a sudden noise of startlement, releasing his grip on Logan's shirt and staggering back. "Sorry! Sorry, I -- " His voice choked off.

Logan stepped forward, reaching out. Carl's eyes had glazed over, and his face lost all color. At the same time, his breathing became shallow and uneven. Just as Logan touched his arm, Carl's legs collapsed. It took a quick move by Logan to catch the man before he fell onto a box full of sharp weaponry. Easing Carl to the floor, he checked Carl's pulse, and started really worrying when he found it pounding ridiculously fast.

PROFESSOR! Logan yelled in his head, hoping Xavier heard him.

What is it, Logan?

It's Carl! He just collapsed.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then the Professor's mental voice returned. He's having a vision. He'll come out of it in a few minutes.

Logan waited, holding the unresponsive man. He couldn't resist examining the man in his arms. Carl really bore little resemblance to Jean. Only the reddish cast of his hair was similar to hers; Carl was much fairer than Jean. Carl's eyes were brighter, when not glazed over like they were now. Logan flinched a little when he found himself noting that even Carl's lips were fuller and more appealing to him than Jean's. Logan reviewed their kiss in his mind, and realized that what he'd felt kissing Carl was ten times what he'd felt kissing Jean. His arms tightened around Carl, holding him close. Finally, Carl jerked and blinked, gasping as if he'd run a race. He raised a hand to his face and rubbed his head. Looking up, he said, "Ga -- Logan?"

"What the hell was that?" Logan demanded, letting his fierce tone mask the fact that he still held Carl close. He did loosen his grip as soon as Carl stirred.

Carl sat up. "Welcome to a vision. Um. I guess you caught me?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks." Carl seemed extremely uncomfortable. "That was a short one, I think."

"What did you see?"

Carl shook his head. "I'll have to go over it. They're like dreams. I'll need to write down everything, and analyze it. I think it felt like the future," he said brightly, clearly using the incident to divert Logan. Carl stood, and started putting the boxes to rights.

"Wait a minute! What about -- what about us?"

Carl looked up at him, wary. "You mean the questions you wanted answered last night, or about the kiss?" Logan shrugged and waited. To his mind, either would do. Carl nodded, and said, "Look, there just isn't enough time right now. If I give you some information now, will that hold you until after we clear up this werewolf crap?"

"Absolutely."

Carl cleared his throat. "OK, I knew I could use your blood to save Scott because A- you have remarkable healing abilities, something that's probably tied to genetics, so your blood would carry it, and B- in 1888 you were bitten by a werewolf and then cured. The source of that original cure was unknown, but you were the very first person ever to be cured, and from your blood, the Roman Catholic Church was able to make a serum to cure other werewolves. As for the kiss, that's really something we'll have to work out later."

Logan's jaw dropped. "How the hell do you know all this?"

Carl balanced the guns and ammo in one hand, the box of blades under his other arm. Giving Logan an expressionless look, he replied, "I was there."