Banshee has a problem, and so far, Xavier is the only one who knows what it is. His past, and one of the Misfits have something to do with it. If he doesn't locate the two women before Magneto, he may never be able to reconcile himself with that past. This chapter is supposed to be "Irish", in quotation marks, but ff.net won't let me use the quotes.

Marvel owns X-Men, Acolytes, and Brotherhood, and basically every character in this story except for Kiley, Cheryl, and those extra people whose names are completely random anyway (I'm serious. I draw them out of a hat). Anyway, Cheryl and Kiley are my best friend and I, so they belong to us and may not be used without permission.

As a side note: you probably have no idea how irritating spell-check can be when you're trying to write vernacular, particularly with Banshee's brogue. -.- In MS Word, there are little red, squiggly lines under nearly every word he utters. Logan can be a bit of a problem too, sometimes. I hate you, MS Word! HATE!!

Please remember to review!

Sean touched down to the ground a little ways off from the train station Logan had entered. The Irishman knew that if he came too close, his teammate would instantly pick up on his scent. He stayed outside, leaning inconspicuously against the lobby window, and watched as Logan went to the ticket clerks and inquired about his prey. Sean perceived recognition on the face of the attendant immediately as Logan described the two women to him. As he tried to imagine what excuse Logan may have thought up to be looking for them, he almost didn't notice when Logan bought a ticket and came back toward the doors.

Not wanting to attract attention by panicking, he remained where he was for a moment, turned away from the door with the collar of his long coat covering half of his face. Sean hoped that there were enough people around to hide his scent from the older X-Man, but wasn't holding his breath. Rethinking his decision to tag along, not knowing what Logan may do if he discovered him, he slowly began to saunter toward the exit. He heard a heavy boot fall against the wood platform behind him.

"Here, Irish. I saved you the trouble of buyin' yer own." A large, gloved hand appeared just above his shoulder, a blue train ticket hanging between the extended index and middle finger. Sean Cassidy sighed and sheepishly accepted it upon hearing his nickname, long used by no one but Wolverine.

"How long have ye known, Logan?" Cassidy turned, smiling, a bit embarrassed.

"Surprisingly, not until I noticed you standing out here. You know, you're really hard to miss with that mop of orange hair on yer head." Logan's eyebrow arched slightly, but he commended his teammate for eluding his innate senses for so long.

"Do I really stand out that much?" he asked, self-consciously running a hand through his brightly colored locks. Sean supposed that there weren't too many people around with such a striking hair color, but decided it didn't matter for the moment, so he moved on. "Wait- ye mean ye're not going to send me on me way home?"

"Could I stop you from just following me anyway?" Logan stared blankly at him for a moment, watching Sean smile and shake his head in response. A loud cranking sound emitted from the train as the conductors began shutting all of the doors on the sleek, white locomotive. Logan grabbed the Irishman by the arm and dragged him toward one of the boarding gates. Sean took the opportunity to look at his ticket.

"Chicago? Why so far?"

"I don't know, but that's where they went, so we're goin' too."

Sean figured that this logic was sound, so he pushed aside his apprehension of the bullet trains and decided that their mission was more important. Still, he gulped, and prepared himself for the long ride.

"Do we have to be goin' by train, Logan?" he asked, still being pulled along.

"Because they took the train. We'll be arriving at the same station they did, and so they'll be easier to find if their scent hasn't disappeared. Oh, by the by, ya don't mind if we have to switch trains a few times on the way, right?"

"What?" Sean blurted, appalled.

"Heh-heh," Logan chuckled cruelly, causing his companion to huff. Sean calmed down a bit and pulled his arm loose of Logan's grip. He hurried to keep up with the smaller man, having to occasionally push past some stragglers who were just coming off of the train they sought to board.

"I'm sorry, Logan, but I'm still kind of amazed ye're not sendin' me back." Sean called ahead, unsure of Logan's reasoning.

"Get over it, pal, we've got a clever enemy who's far ahead of us. It may take a while to track them down, and that's just if they're even still together. They may have split up somewhere along the way, anticipating our pursuit." Logan snatched Sean's ticket and handed it to the waiting conductor. They entered the doorway and went to their seats in the third passenger car just as the engines were warmed enough.

"'Sides," Logan continued, grinning widely over his shoulder, "I like the company I've been stuck with, Irish."

Sean nearly stumbled over his own feet in the middle of the aisle when he heard Logan's words. Logan had always seemed indifferent toward him, and this was about the friendliest thing he had heard from him in quite some time. He smiled, glad he had decided to come along, and even glad Logan had found him out. He decided to make the best of this while it lasted. They found their seats and sat down next to each other.

"Glad ye feel that way, Logan." Sean continued to smile amicably. Logan smirked back and gave a small grunt in response. He then tipped his hat over his eyes and relaxed, awaiting their departure. It was then that Sean remembered that neither of them had slept since before the X-Men had left the mansion in search of the Misfits. Nonetheless, Sean was too anxious to sleep. He wished he had gone with them, so that he could see their faces for himself and determine whether one of them was the girl he had once known. Xavier, however, had asked him to stay behind. He said he wanted Sean to look after the children, but Sean also knew that it was for his own protection.

The professor knew that if Sean had been there, his emotions concerning his past could have cost him his life. Sean thought about his conversation with the older man just the previous night. The professor had warned him that the girl was not the same as she had once been. Sean could accept that, given what she had been through. However, in what ways she had changed, no one could be certain. What Sean feared most was whether or not she even remembered who he was. Not knowing how much responsibility she had placed on him for past events.

As the train churned forward, Logan began to snore softly from the seat next to him. Sean glanced over at him, wondering how the man could sleep so soundly no matter where he was. They weren't exactly traveling first class. Then he noticed something odd. Logan's ears seemed very alert. They were pricked upward, like a wild predator's, and considering what Logan's X-Gene had done for him, it seemed almost fitting.

"What's the matter, Logan? Don't ye trust me?" Sean asked softly, fidgeting with his hands.

Having been discovered, Logan sat still for a moment, sighed, then sat up, removing his hat. He stretched, yawned, and looked over at Cassidy, who stared back, solemnly.

"I trust you alright, Irish. I was just wondering what you were thinkin'. Yer breathin's pretty stiff; has been for a while," Logan leaned over a bit so that the other passengers could not hear what he had to say, "hey, listen," he said quietly, almost in a feral growl; Sean knew he didn't mean to sound so irritated- it was just how his voice normally sounded, "I heard a little bit about what you and the Prof were talkin' about; these ears o' mine, ya know. You alright?"

Sean was a bit shocked to discover that Logan's hearing was so good that he could hear right through the walls of the mansion's elevator, which were each several inches thick, even without their steel frame, but was at a loss as to what to say to him. He didn't know how much Logan had already heard,

"Eh," Cassidy thought for a moment, still not even sure he wanted anyone to know. He looked sidelong at Logan again, and despite the man's genuinely concerned expression, he said, "I'm sorry Logan, but this is something I've got to take care of meself. I hope ye'll understand." He sighed, and hung his head, feeling rather terrible for having to conceal something so important from his friends. Logan relaxed, completely at ease with Cassidy's answer, and responded in an almost sympathetic tone.

"'Course I understand, Irish. You're talkin' to the ol' Canucklehead who does everything for 'imself. If you've got personal business with one o' these gals, you gotta take care of it. If ya do ever wanna talk to somebody about it though, I'm right here. Got that?"

"Ye have me thanks, Logan," Sean sighed, relieved that Logan knew how much it meant to him to keep this to himself, "and one day, I might just take ye up on ye're offer. But for now, just let me think a while on it. There are many things I still have to sort out for meself before I confront her. Before two days ago, I never would have thought I'd get this chance to meet the lass again, ye know? I had always hoped, but," Sean was interrupted by the appearance of Logan's hand before him, motioning for silence.

"Ya don't have to explain everything, Irish, I told ya I completely understand. You just concentrate on figurin' things out right now, and don't worry about apologizing anymore. I don't want yer thanks either. All ya have to do is know I'm here." Logan was staring at him sternly, but not angrily.

"R-right," Sean stammered contritely. He began thinking then of all the things he wanted to say. He couldn't think of anything. All that was running through his mind was that he had not seen her in over five years. Sean was not only uncertain that she would remember him, but he now dreaded that he would not be able to recognize her either. With this thought, his chest tightened slowly, and he became more and more nervous with every passing moment.

When Logan looked over again to make sure he was all right, Sean was not moving at all. His hands gripped the armrests of the seat tightly, his breathing had grown quieter, and he looked terrified. His eyes dilated, he stared off into space. Logan decided Cassidy had had enough time to think.

"Okay, red, okay. I think ya need to calm down and come back to the land of the living. Ya look like ever-lovin' rigor mortis just hit ya, fer Pete's sake!" Logan grabbed Sean's shoulder and shook him vigorously, bringing him out of his petrified state. Sean shivered for a moment, still quite unsettled by everything he had been pondering. He nodded his thanks to Logan, who turned his torso to face him, grasping both of his shoulders as Sean began to breathe more normally again.

"Now, ya still don't have to tell me anything if ya don't want to, but you ain't gonna go doin' that on me again, that's fer sure! Y'all right, bub?"

"Yes, Logan," Sean shrank a bit into his seat, his expression turning tepid, "I'm just worried about what'll be happenin' in the next few hours. I'm not sure if I'll be likin' the outcome, either. I'll be fine now," he felt the tightening in his chest dissipate then, and did try to calm down as Logan had suggested. He looked over at him again, "Logan, can I ask ye a question?"

"Sure, Irish, ask me anything." Logan leaned back in his seat once more, watching Sean out of the corner of his eye, wanting to make sure he was truly going to relax.

"Those girls-the Misfits- what did they look like?" Logan was a bit surprised by the inquiry. He had thought that by telling him to calm down, he was telling him to stop thinking about the subject altogether, but apparently Cassidy hadn't gotten the hint. Still, he decided to humor him.

"Well," he said, trying to remember the information his friend sought, "mind you, they ran off not too long after we arrived, so I don't think any of us got a real good look at 'em. I can tell ya the basics, though."

"That's fine. Just let me hear it. I have to know." Sean said bleakly, continuing to gaze dolefully ahead at nothing in particular.

"Alrighty then," Logan sighed, "here goes. Both of 'em were real young. Couldn't a' been any older than twenty or so..."

"Eighteen," Sean interrupted, still in a daze, "that's how old she'll be, right about now."

"Er, yeah, you might be right," Sean's interruption had broken Logan's chain of thought, but he quickly found it again, "both of 'em were real lookers too. Pretty faces an' everything, but they looked real wild. Not feral like me, but more like," Logan thought of something to compare them to, but it proved difficult, not having seen them for more than maybe a minute, "like Ororo, I s'pose, more exotic."

"She was a pretty lass, she was." Sean cracked a smile, interrupting Logan again, still not recovered from his slump. Logan became truly disturbed by Sean's state once again, but continued nonetheless.

"The one was a bit taller than the other, and had longer, darker hair. She was from somewhere down south, or maybe Asian. Scratch that, she didn't really look Asian, but her skin was darker," Sean frowned, and Logan realized this wasn't the one he wanted to hear about. He tried to remember the other Misfit, the one who had used her powers. She had been the one controlling the beasts the X-Men faced, and so the one they had been forced to be more cautious of, but still Logan did not remember much more about her.

"What's wrong?" Sean finally looked up, having slouched in his seat almost as far as he was able, his shoulders now just above the armrests, and his elbows outstretched on them. He realized that his elbow was pressing into Logan's ribs, so he wearily sat part of the way back up, folding his hands over his chest, intertwining his fingers.

"Nothin', I'm jes' thinkin'. You probably wanna hear more about the other gal, don't ya? I remember a little better now. Yeah, she was my height, but like her partner, she looked real agile. She used her powers to summon some kinda' monster with little pellets, or whatever it was she kept in a pouch in her belt. Her partner did all the talkin' once we arrived, but this one was the only one using her powers, as far as we know. She was..."

"Very pretty lass, ash blonde hair, green eyes, or were they hazel?" Sean interrupted again, "I'm almost positive it was hazel. And I bet she looked real detached too."

"Yup," Logan sighed, wondering what Sean would do now, "that one looked real cold, almost spiteful. That's her." Logan heard Sean chuckle quietly. He was grinning now, but his eyes were still very impassive. Logan wondered if his friend might be going crazy right then.

"She's always been that way. Never smiled unless she had a real reason to. Sometimes she just looked downright mean." Sean's eyes lost their glaze, and he sat up.

Logan blinked.

"'Real looker', eh? She's grown up well. Aside from the thievin', that is." Sean's smile disappeared, but he looked at Logan then, completely composed. He continued to say, "thank ye, Logan. Now I know it's her. I still don't know what I'm going to say, but I feel better now."

"I sure hope so, Irish." Logan stopped staring at him, feeling he could stop worrying finally. It really looked like Sean Cassidy, or Banshee, was going to be all right.