(Two)
Logan was ready to come home, oh yes. He was having a difficult evening, one he hadn't expected. He had been riding his motorcycle in Upstate New York when he was taken down by a couple of Jael's thugs. He was then taken before the half breed terrorist, Jael, who next proceeded to sic a powerful telepath on him. Now Wolverine found himself here in the twisted labyrinth of his own mind, not a pleasant place to be. He had been sucked into some kind of whirlwind and tumbled about.
He had expected to land on a hard surface because he was falling, but instead found himself just suddenly standing in a large room of what had to be a huge mansion. There were large glass windows looking out onto gardens and fields rich with crops. Looking outside one of the windows was a small boy, about seven or eight years in age. He had soft black hair curling about his neck and steel grey eyes. He was sitting on a plush red cushion, a dog curled up at his feet. He was oblivious to his visitors, he was watching events happening outside.
"Recognize him?" Tanya asked, walking over to the child.
The boy gave no sign he was being spied upon. He continued to gaze outside at a man who was riding a horse. The man was tall and smiling, someone who gave off an air of casual ease – so unlike the boy who watched him.
"That's you," Tanya said, indicating the child, and next pointed to the man. "...and that is your father."
Wolverine came closer, he couldn't help himself. As he neared the boy, facts tumbled into this brain. My name is James Howlett. That's my dog, Callie. I got her for Christmas from my father. My name is James Howlett and this is my father's house. We live up on the Hill in Alberta, Canada. The year is 1906! My God...!
Wolverine moved to the window, but the man outside had dismounted and entered the house. He heard loud voices in the hallway behind him and turned. He knew these voices, the newly opened part of him did. His father and grandfather were arguing again. They always did this. His grandfather never approved of anything his father did, especially about how young James was being raised. He was going to be a soft little boy, crazy in the head like his mother was. James disliked all the bickering and tuned them out, fighting the pain he experienced every suffered from terrible allergies, most likely a symptom of living in such a stressful lived in a rich man's house, but was surrounded by an unhealthy constant air of verbal violence.
Wolverine was jerked again when there came that loud key turning sound and he knew he was once more moving in time, Tanya was in charge of this show and moving things along at her pace, not his. He found himself now outside on a dirt path close to the house. He stepped back as young James barreled past him with two other children, a girl and another small boy. That's Rose! And that...that's Dog!
"Look again, James," Tanya whispered to him again. "The boy. He's more than you think."
Tanya was right. Wolverine took a good long look at the boy's face and a sniff of his air revealed the truth. That's...that's Creed! I'd know that scent anywhere!
Wolverine couldn't hide his surprise. He and Victor Creed, the fiend that earned his well deserved title of Sabretooth, had a rivalry that spanned decades. For years they chased each other around, fighting and slashing at each other like animals. They had met in the service during the early seventies, neither one seeming to remember the other, and worked together on several projects. Over time, Creed's violence and appetite for cruelty became a sore spot between them and drove them to become bitter enemies. Creed constantly teased him for being weak, for not giving into the beast as he had. They went their separate ways and clashed violently whenever their paths crossed again, killing each other time and time again only to walk away and heal up before clashing when they found each other once more. It was an endless cycle of useless violence that accomplished nothing but caused the rift between them to grow further and further apart. It seemed that Wolverine would now be forced to re-evaluate what he once knew about his violent and cruel adversary.
Rose was the name of the pretty young girl who had come to the house to be a playmate for young James. She was several years older than him, but not too young to romp and play. She was dressed in the good clothes of the house and had long flowing red hair and flashing green eyes. Wolverine couldn't stand still, he took off after the kids, his heart racing as his mind once more filled with facts about his life, long forgotten.
Dog (that's Creed!), well he was the grounds keeper's son. He was a couple of years older than James and bigger in size. His dirty brown hair was long around his shoulders and tangled with leaves from their game. They were all close in age and the only children here. This was their first summer together as a trio and they had grown very close. They were the best of friends. (Me and Sabretooth friends? Yeah, that'll be the day!) But it was true, he felt a surge of affection for the young boy named Dog he couldn't deny.
Dog had eyes only for Rose, she was the brightest thing in his universe and he could do little to hide it. James (that's me!) loved to joke around with Dog about it. There was no way Dog would ever get his wish, Rose was way out of his league. She was little more than a servant in the house but had come from a good family. No one knew Dog's real name, they all just called him that as a nickname. He looked like a normal boy in most respects, but his fingers were blunt and malformed. It didn't stop him from being able to play and romp with the rest of them. He was always dressed in ragged, ripped up clothing and was barefoot. Dog never had shoes, he was too poor. He was filthy and dirty all the time because he had no running water where he lived. He stayed in a tiny one room shack at the bottom of the Hill with his dad, Thomas Logan. Thomas was an embittered old drunk who frequently beat Dog with his belt. Dog was always covered in bruises and cuts, but never bothered to explain them.
Thomas Logan, the grounds keeper...
Wolverine was shocked once more as they now traveled past Dog's father, half drunk under a tree and now roused from a stupor by their racket. "God damned kids!" Thomas Logan growled in a low gruff voice eerily similar to Wolverine's. He was the spitting image of Wolverine himself but...but... This man is not my father. My dad is John... John Howlett...at least, I'm supposed to think he is. Looks like dear old Mom has a skeleton 'r two in her closet.
"Dog! Git yer ass over here!" Thomas bellowed.
Dog immediately cringed and lowered his eyes. "Yes, papa."
"What are ya doin'! You gots work ta do! C'mere, boy!"
Dog came up to his father, cowering with his head down and he showed no surprise when his old man started to unbuckle his belt. He made no sound as the man began to beat him without mercy, so used to this was he. The sound of the lash was loud, but not louder than the look of silent agony on Dog's tiny face as he cried. Having been beaten by a belt himself more than once, Wolverine was on intimate terms with such a high level of pain and torment.
Victor..no...I never would have wanted this for you, Wolverine couldn't help himself but think. Of all the punishments he had ever wished upon the merciless Sabretooth, this wasn't one of them. It occurred to him that he never once questioned how Victor had become the savage killer he was. He had been that way for as long as Logan could remember and he had accepted it as part of Creed's nature and personality. Now he knew otherwise.
James and Rose could do nothing but watch as their companion was viciously whipped and then dragged away. Dog was only nine.
Wolverine howled as he was sucked through the whirlwind again. He heard the exaggerated noise of key turning loudly in a lock, a sound he was becoming more and more to dread. Now he was back in the house again. He saw his younger self once more, only older now and in his early teens. He was a sickly boy, had been all his life, and frail. It hadn't gone away as he had grown older. There was some kind of commotion going on in his mother's room. His mother, Elizabeth, was a quiet thing, not quite steady in her head. She had suffered some kind of breakdown years ago and was often listless and dazed as she hid herself away in her rooms. James didn't see that much of her. Now there was screaming and shouting. James followed the noise and burst into the room to see what was going on, a ghostly Wolverine right behind.
Thomas Logan was there with Dog, now a young teenager like James, but stronger and well muscled. Thomas was holding a shotgun to James' father's head, holding him hostage. Thomas had been fired earlier in the day and was now taking his revenge. He was going to take Elizabeth for himself, she belonged to him in the real sense that mattered. Thomas had dragged Rose up here with him, he had used her to gain access to the room.
Dog was behind him, his loyalty and submission to his father beaten into him after all these years. The boy had grown up hard and mean from the daily abuse and little resembled the playful youth James used to play with. His eyes held only cruelty and anger at a world that had never shown him an ounce of pity or mercy. At the tender age of fifteen and not quite a mutant himself yet, Victor Creed was well on his way to becoming the monster that was his destiny.
Wolverine watched in horror as Thomas pulled the trigger and the man who had raised him was dead. James was screaming and running into the room and slashing, slashing out with hands that held claws for the first time...
Wolverine startled in place as he watched the drama play out in front of him like a sick movie. My claws are real! They are made of bone not just metal! They put metal over all my bones! All my bones! My claws are real, they're mine!
His claws were real, yes, but they didn't look like the ones he had now. They were made of solid bone, hard as nails and razor sharp. They were half the length of the ones he had now, the Adamantium had added size and sharpness to his built in defense system. It didn't make what he had in that moment any less deadly.
James first slashed the face of Dog, sending him crashing to the floor. He next raked them across the belly of Thomas Logan, the man Wolverine now realized had to be his true father in the genetic sense. Thomas had had an affair with John Howlett's wife and she had kept it a secret. Thomas screamed and fell to the floor as his guts spilled out over his feet. This was the first time Wolverine had ever popped his claws, he had done it on instinct, and sure as shit, he had used them to kill.
James howled in agony as his mutation came out with a bang. His hands were clawed, his father was dead...both of them. He was a child and having a breakdown, the first one of many to come. His ears rushed with sound and his nose exploded with smells only dimly imagined moments before. Rose was there and clutching at him. "James! James! Who are you?" She was in shock from his transformation.
He couldn't answer but turned to his mother for comfort. "Momma!"
"Get away from me, you abomination!" she howled and jerked away from him, screaming in terror. James turned tail and ran, his new found hearing barely registering the sounds of his mother reaching for Thomas' gun and blowing her own brains out. Her secret lover was gone and she was undone.
James was running outside...outside into the snow. It was full on winter and the snow was deep, deep enough to kill. Rose was there, clutching him once more and bringing him to safety. They were now fugitives on the run, blamed for the murders and had nowhere to go.
Wolverine had trailed them out of the house and out into the snow, his reeling mind trying to comprehend all these new facts about himself. My name is James Howlett and Sabretooth is my brother... my half brother. They screwed with our heads at Weapon X, stole our memories. We always hated each other, we just never really knew why...but I do now, Logan was realizing with a lot of regret. Things didn't have to be the way were between them. Not any more.
He now knew what happened next, it was all coming back to him in a flood. James had fled with Rose into the wilds of Canada, leaving Dog behind to fend for himself. I took his Rose...that's what he sees. If he even knows. I have to talk to him...I have to—!
But it was worse than that, he knew it. Yes, he and Rose moved on. They made their way to one of the old mining camps and stayed there. James was scrawny at first, but now that his mutation had kicked in, it didn't last. He grew big if not exactly tall, and strong from the hard labor. Soon he discovered he was a skilled hunter as well. He had been driven to it, there was little food in the camp and whatever extra he could catch came in handy. He learned how to trap and shoot and even to kill with a knife, but never with his claws, no.
James thought he had left his troubles behind him. He began to forget who he had been and concentrated on the here and now. His mind scarred over the wounds of his mind like it would any other injury and time did the rest. He forgot all about Thomas and Dog and the house on the Hill, thinking on it, if he ever did, as a bad dream. He never used his claws and stubbornly refused to acknowledge they existed. He could kill for food, but he would never use them on a human again. Yeah, right. That didn't last too long, Logan lamented to himself.
He saw his past stream by him like a dream. They came here to this camp and grew older. Rose grew up real fine. She was so pretty. James was slow about noticing, he regarded her more as a sister, but that began to too long, he fell in love with her. The feeling was mutual and she took him to bed one snowy, stormy night. She was his first lover and his first true love. She was so beautiful... The thought of her made Logan shiver and he cried out softly. He cried out because he knew what was going to happen next. It was all coming back to him.
Dog wasn't finished with them, no. He wanted his Rose, the one girl he had ever truly loved, even if it was in his own twisted way. It took some time, a couple of years, but he finally tracked them down. It didn't take long for him to see and smell what was going on. His own mutation had kicked in now he was here and in his prime. He had really put on some size now that he was older and he was cleaner from all of the snow. His hair was long and blonde, it had lightened with age and a good rinse. There was no mistaking his future identity. This was Sabretooth.
Dog saw James in love with his girl and his anger surged. He made a decision then. If he couldn't have Rose, no one else would either. He came up on her when she was alone. He begged her to go with him, but she refused, fleeing from him in terror. He chased her down and raped her viciously, using his fists and his claws to destroy her face. Still he wasn't satisfied. The anger in him was much too powerful, he was going to punish her for not loving him, for taking off with the other guy. He turned her loose in the woods and hunted her down for hours, slaughtering her for the whore he now believed her to be.
James came home from the mining camp in a happy mood, it was his birthday and today he was going to ask Rose to marry him. He knew she would, but was hoping since it was a special occasion, she would be even more certain to grant his wish. He was shocked and horrified when he saw blood in the snow and smelled dear old Dog all over the house. He saw blood on Rose's bed. He knew what it meant and who had done this.
James followed the trail of blood that lead from the house and came upon the mangled remains of his lover. She looked like a pile a raw meat, not even human, she had been savaged so badly. It looked like part of her had been eaten. He knew it was her because of her hair and the remaining shreds of her dress. There was more blood leading away and James went after it. Dog wanted to be found and they came upon one another in the woods, snarling and spitting at each other.
"You killed Rose, you sick fuck!" James howled. "She was your friend!"
"You stole her away from me!" Dog snarled in return, his anger and resentment all too plain. His evil and twisted father had filled him with hate for the rich and privileged Howletts and it remained inside of him still. Dog saw Logan's running off with Rose as the ultimate betrayal.
"Your Dad killed my father! We had to run! This had nothing to do with you!"
"You killed my papa! I seen what ya done! I had nothing! You left me behind! You took Rose 'cause ya wanted her all fer yerself! She was mine and ya stole her away from me!" Dog's eyes and the tremble in his voice betrayed his pain. This had been no mere childhood fantasy for him, his love for Rose had been a real thing, the one bright light in the nightmare of his world. She had been stolen from him, and with her, his humanity. He stood tall and spread his hands, showing his large, wicked talons with an evil grin. Here now was the explanation for his misshapen hands, they had been concealing a secret. "Well, no more! See? You ain't the only one with claws! Come an' git me if ya dare, ya pussy!"
James was overcome with rage and charged forward, popping his claws for the first time since he had come here. They clashed violently and the blood went flying. It seemed they had both inherited more than just claws from dad's side of the family (Too bad Thomas didn't have either ability, the poor sap! Musta skipped a generation 're somethin'.), they both had the power to heal. Dog was bigger than him and stronger. He had the advantage of a mother with some strength of her own. That and a head full of blonde hair. They were not true brothers, only half, and it seemed Dog had gotten the better deal.
Logan stood on the sidelines, an unseen ghost unable to change the events he was seeing. His head was down. It really was a shame this never got worked out. Thomas had killed his dad, not Dog. That hadn't been his fault. The death of Rose, well...This was the source of all their trouble, a girl. The first girl for them both.
The two combatants battled it out and James was getting his butt seriously kicked. He fell and Dog tackled him and squeezed his throat with no mercy. "No girls fer you, boy! Ever! You find 'em, I'm gonna kill 'em! That's it! Heh, heh. That's if ya git away from me! Don't look much like it right now!"
James found a reserve. He twisted and broke free. There was no more fight in him so he fled. He ran with his pursuer three steps behind. His tears for Rose were shed as he ran and froze to his face in white icy streaks. He was certain to join her, he could hear the snarl of Dog's labored breathing just behind him. He ran out of path quickly. This was the Great Falls, cliffs over a hundred feet high that overhung a huge roaring river. He jumped off without a thought, preferring this death to the claws of his adversary. He heard Dog howl in anger from the cliffs above him, he hadn't been nearly as brave. Dog stood and watched James fall, watched James as he died.