Author's Note – A Wolverine story, about him finding justice for a victim. My first real Wolverine story, I hope you like it.

Disclaimer – Wolverine belongs to Marvel. And the idea that Logan wouldn't like drinking belongs to LiLRoguE

Chapter One

It's raining outside, the water soaks and cleanses everything.

One of the only times I can stand being in crowded cities.

The Rain makes everything odorless, getting rid of the god awful smells of the cities.

Smells…lot of times people forget that I can smell things better than others.

Perfumes…colognes…someone who forgot to shower… burns my nose.

I thank God every day for the person who invented scentless soaps and shampoo.

Like I said, it's raining.

Normally I would be outside enjoying it.

Not today.

No, today my head hurts.

Not a headache…I can't get those things

Wish it was the same way for heartaches.

No…something inside my mind is rattling.

Something about my past…I hate it.

So instead of being outside, I find myself in a bar.

Looking for something to drown out the pain in my head.

It's not that easy.

Another thing people don't know about me, I don't like beer.

Surprised you didn't I?

Ya, I don't like beer at all, it's too weak for me.

Contrary to popular belief I don't like drinking anything with alcohol in it.

It just tastes bad.

Tastes…people forget that too.

They forget that anything I eat or drink, I can taste better than almost anyone.

I try to stick to bland foods when I can.

However I do drink the hard stuff.

The burning in my throat helps take my mind off the burning in my head.

I only drink when I need to forget.

Sometimes I need to forget a lot.

I only drink beer if Anna gives it me.

The babe gave me a six pack, Canadian of course, for my birthday once.

She seemed so pleased that she picked a gift she thought I would like.

I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't like beer.

Now, on every birthday, she gives me another six pack.

Every birthday, I drink them all, assuring her that I love it.

She's an angel, that Anna, that Rogue.

Can't ever hurt her feelings, can't ever make her frown, that's just mean.

I need a drink, I need to forget.

They all think they are doing me a favor, when they give me leads about my past.

God…wish they would all just leave me alone about it.

I signal for the barkeep to give me a drink.

I ask for whisky, Wild Turkey, it's smooth and still strong enough to burn.

She tells me there is none left.

Sold the last shot just a few seconds ago.

I really need to stay focused.

I look at the display, looking for something else.

I really wanted that whisky, everything else is too soft.

Suddenly I hear a throat being cleared.

Someone wants my attention.

I look to my left, and I see her.

A girl…a child…probably just turned eighteen.

She smiles at me and slides her glass over to me, across the bar.

That last shot of Wild Turkey.

I raise an eyebrow in her direction, but she waves it off dismissively.

I take the glass and raise it in her direction, thanking her.

She smiles and drinks water instead.

Good kid.

I raise the glass and look into the brown liquid for a second.

I try to remember for a second.

Then I just down the shot

Trying to forget.

It burns…bad

Like a grenade in my throat.

But it works… for a bit.

I place the glass down on the bar and look for the girl again.

She is already on her way out.

I sigh and run my fingertip on the rim of the glass.

I begin to let myself get lost in the sounds and smells of the rest of the joint.

In a weird way, it's almost relaxing.

Suddenly I am snapped out of it by the sudden smell of copper.

I run out of the bar.

I can hear screams, lots of them.

I get outside; the rain is already soaking me.

And the girl

The girl is lying on the sidewalk.

The smell of copper…her blood…sends my senses into overdrive.

I hear a car speeding away, I can't see it though…already to far away.

The people on the street have either ran off or have hidden.

I drop the ground and gently take the girl into my arms.

Shot a few times in the stomach…gut wound…she is suffering.

I jab a few places in the back of her neck, a paralysis, she won't feel it now.

I close her eyes and lay her back down.

I go through her purse, I find her name…

It's a start.

Cops won't ever find the punks who did this.

Look like I need to do it.

I don't mind, not at all.

I owe this to her.

She gave me her drink.