Title: Memories
Author: shadowkat83 AKA fanficexpress
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG
Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?

P.S. This chapter was re-uploaded to fix formatting errors.

Chapter 5: confront the confrontation

The smoke and smell of several types of sin billowed forth when he opened the heavy wooden door. It was that typical smell, the smell of people doing everything in their power to forget. The music was loud and obnoxious and the patrons weren't too happy to see him and abruptly stopped whatever they were doing to show their disapproval. They frowned and grunted at the brown haired, fair skinned young man with ruby tinted shades who strolled through the sticky, liquor-coated door. He just stood quietly in the doorway, Rain trickling down his trench coat. His brown eyes surveyed the bar, which was filled with bikers, truckers, and the usual tattooed loners. He knew he'd find Logan here; this was his place of refuge when he felt down and out. He could grovel here and become part of the crowd. He didn't have to speak to anyone, everyone understood his pain and his need to overindulge to feel something other then hurt. It was the quiet acceptance this place offered that he craved. The cold silence soon let up and their attention fell back to their drinks. It wasn't hard for him to spot Logan. The puddle on the floor at his feet was a clear sign of a recent addition to the bar who had stood outside and felt the heaven open up, seemingly just for him. Then there was the trademark scowl and curl of his lip and last but not least the cloud of acrid smoke that wafted from the cigar clamped tight between his dog-like canines. He hadn't looked up but he was sure he knew he was there. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, he just knew that Logan shouldn't be left alone no matter how hard he demanded it.

"This seat taken?"

"What does it look like, one eye?" Logan cut back. Scott realized he wasn't in the mood for small talk but didn't really expect him to be, not after what happened.

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

Even though he was ready for it, it still caught him by surprise. The sound was so loud and devastating. It cut through the air and everything hushed. Panic welled up in Scott's heart as he realized that Logan had yet to make a sound, yet to react. Scott's ears couldn't pick up any movement or sounds and he wished to god in heaven that he had his visor. What state would he be in? What would happen to his mind? Would he go feral? Scott swallowed hard trying in vein to tame his heartbeat.

"No…" Scott heard the disembodied murmur. He opened his mouth to say something but was there anything he could say?

"No…please…"The hollow voice uttered, His breathing came out in frightful gasps and dry-heaves. There was a sharp bang that made Scott jump and skin crawl. Logan's fist collided with the door one last time before he slid to the floor. He curled into a ball hugging his knees and that's when Scott heard something he thought he'd never hear. Not from the wolverine. Not from the toughest son of a bitch to ever walk god's green earth.

"Logan…I'm so sorry." He said blindly shuffling his way toward the sound, the sound of sadness and frustration. The floodgates had opened and Logan had finally broken down. He cried, He wept; he pleaded and asked why things had to be the way they were. Delirious in his sadness he rambled and choked on his tears. Scott reached the automatic doors and felt along the cold expanse of metal, his hands ran across something wet and congealed but he wouldn't let his mind dwell on what it was. His hands finally landed on the hard packed shoulder of his fellow teammate. It slightly bobbed and Scott lowered himself and did the only thing he could think to do. The only thing he had left once stripped of his visor, the personification of his leadership. He hugged him, a tight embrace that prompted Logan to cry even harder.

/Scott…/ the professor cut in.

/Not now…not now./Scott said and the professor respectfully left his mind.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Logan stared hard at the man beside him, seemingly lost in thought. His scent had changed, he had come with such determination but it had faltered. Now he felt pity and sadness radiating off of him. The pungent stink of pity ground on Logan's nerves.

"If ya gonna just stand there starin' off inta space you should just button up that fancy coat of yers and get the hell outta here." Logan drawled through a very obvious scowl. Scott had found the angrier Logan got the more prone he was to lose his finer English skills. What had made him so angry he wasn't sure, but Scott assumed his emotions were out of whack. He looked down at his coat. He hadn't realized his trench was considered fancy but from looking at the other regulars he could see how he stood out. Logan went to pour himself another mug from his pitcher and Scott sat next to him ignoring Logan's disapproving grunt.

"Logan…"

"Don't or I'll kill ya. I'm here to relax, don't go fucking it up feelin' sorry fer me." Logan spat and as quickly as the conversation had begun it had been squashed. The two sat in mutual silence. The hairy mutant watched the game on the large screen behind the bar with lackluster enthusiasm while he tossed back drink after drink. Scott noticed his hands shook when his eyes glazed over, looking right through the TV; Flashing back to something haunting, scary, taunting. He'd shake it away, mumble something under his breath about not being a real man and took a couple more swigs of cheap bourbon and even cheaper beer. Mixing the two seemed like a lethal combination, and Scott's stomach turned just watching him. Logan noticed his pitcher was empty and angrily called for the bartender, waving his massive hand in the air. She sauntered over looking like a goth angel with raven hair and plump ruby lips. Her Jeans hugging her hips just right and her shirt clung to every curve her mother gave her. Logan didn't even give her a second look, He was preoccupied with getting some more liquid cyanide. Scott watched as Logan's Threatening glare became even more lethal as the bartender leaned over the bar in front of Scott instead of him..

"You gonna drink or are you here just ta take up space from my payin' customers, huh?" She said with a tight frown, pursing her lips. She leaned over the bar giving Scott a good eyeful of ample cleavage that he had to take time to appreciate..

"Oh, let me just have two of whatever he's having." Scott thumbed at Logan and ignored the menacing yet puzzled look he was getting from his teammate. He knew what he was thinking. Fearless leader of the x-men drinking? Are pigs flying? Scott let a small smile creep over his face.

"It's your funeral." She smirked while she made the drinks. Her arms seemed to be on autopilot and in less than 30 seconds she set two large drinks in front of Scott.

"Hey bartenda'! How long am I gonna hav' ta wait here, huh?" A raunchy biker bellowed from the far end of the battered bar.

"Your gonna wait as long as I want ya ta wait!" She shouted back but with a smile. She made her way to the other side of the bar where the men were crowded and rowdy, waving their money and making lewd comments. Without turning to Logan he slid one of the drinks down the bar to him.

"Here"

"I got my own money. I can get my own drinks." Logan muttered.

"I promised I'd buy you a drink when you woke up from the coma. I'm just making good on that promise." Scott said with a straight face, a meaningful serious stare. Logan reached out and took the offered glass and Scott diverted his attention to his own liquid death. Logan just stared at his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh in the confines of the glass made his mind drift back to the horror his mind had put him through. Then he remembered everything Scott had said about him with stark clarity. Was he really a good man? Had he really impacted people's lives in a good way? Did the man sitting next to him really see him as a valuable part of the team? Did he really want to get to know him…even after what he did, or rather what he didn't do? Logan squeezed the cup and his eyes closed. It couldn't be possible. He let a child die, he let his child die. A real man would have found a way to save her.

"Surprised..." Scott finally said breaking Logan out of the depression he could feel him slipping back into.

"What?"

"I'm just surprised you didn't drop one of your token pick up lines on the barkeep. She looks like your type." Scott said with a smirk. Logan Stared at Scott with those deep, passionate, soul searching eyes that made Scott shiver then Snorted.

"Yeah, well, she looks alright but she looks like the kinda girl you gotta win over and I'm not much in the mood for cat and mouse.." He growled out draining his glass and slamming it back onto the bar. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then ran his fingers through his hair.

"Ah, not in the mood for pleasantries then?" Scott was smiling, his voice coated with humor and sarcasm.

"I like to get down to business. Fuck that dinner and a movie stuff."

"Your serious aren't you?"

"As a heart attack." Logan nodded. But there was a slight turn of his lips that let Scott know that he was serious but could find the humor. They sat in companionable silence after there exchange but soon that silence grew heavy and someone had to break the ice.

"What are you doing here Cyclops? This isn't your kinda dive. You here to baby-sit? The professor sent you? Or did jean?" Logan questioned, emphasizing his code-name to reassert their non-friendship. He put up a divider, too afraid to get close.

"They advised me not to come, Wolverine." He said throwing his informal name right back at him.

"I came because I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Always the boy scout." The feral mutant said with a huff. Shifting to stand as if he couldn't stand to sit next to Scott any longer. Scott reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder halting his escape.

"No, always a friend."

"Since when have we been friends." He said growling at the intrusion on his personal space and then forcefully brushing his hand away.

"Not sure, I know I consider you a friend now though." There was a strange seriousness to Scott's face that caught Logan by surprise. The younger man was talking to him from his heart. Logan could tell the difference between a lie or a statement made out of pity or remorse and He could tell that this statement was heart felt. Logan gritted his teeth but decided to stay. He re-positioned himself on the barstool and waved the barkeep over for another drink.

"I heard you…" Logan muttered.

"What?"

"I heard what you said to me, when I was in the coma. When you said all those good things about me. I don't believe you."

"I meant every word of it."

"You don't know me…What I've done. Hell, I don't even know what I've done. It's impossible for me to be all those good things. Not after I couldn't save her!" The anger was rising within him again. He'd have to show him what kind of man he really was.

"Tell that to jubilee, and all the boys that you've taken under your wing since your stay here. And while you're at it tell that to Maggie and the professor. Should I go on?" Scott was always growing angry. Why couldn't Logan just accept that he had a family back at the mansion that loved and cared for him.

"No…"

"Your selling yourself short. You have a huge network of people who care about you. We want to help. What happened to your daughter isn't' your fault! I know your hurting but sitting here drinking yourself into oblivion isn't going to solve the problem!"

"Solve the problem? As if this is some fucking algebra equation that has a solution! You can't fucking solve for "Y" and everything is right again! Fuck you summers…" Logan finally erupted. He angrily chugged the drink the bartender had set in front of him, clamped his stubby cigar between his teeth and made his way to the door with long angry strides. Scott wasn't far behind, trying to catch up to him, he couldn't let him go. He may never come back and the thought of Losing Logan forever hurt his soul. By the time Scott had reluctantly paid the massive tab at the bar and maneuvered through the crowd to make it outside Logan was half way to his bike. The rain was coming down so hard that it felt like god had tipped over a sky-sized bucket. Rain dripped down his face and his hair was shaggy in his eyes. He wiped the loose strands out of his field of vision and screamed at Logan's retreating form.

"What you're doing right now is running away! I know how you feel!"

"You can't possibly know how I feel!" Logan yelled back not bothering to turn around. He was gone, It was final. No need for discussion. He couldn't go back. Not after what happened. How could he face the team again. He knew the word had spread by now, They would all know he had had a daughter that he let die. They shot her while he watched and he never got a chance to even hold her. That seemed the cruelest of it all, never having the chance to hold her, put his scent on her, mark her and make her his. It tore him up inside knowing she died without know him and ever primal part of his being screamed at him for not protecting his family, his unit, his pack.

"Then explain it to me!" Scott shot back jogging across the muddy parking lot to catch up with Logan. He reached out and grabbed his muscular arm. Logan whirled around sending water twirling with him. The anger and frustration apparent on his face. His chest heaved as if he was at the very cusp of losing control.

"You wouldn't understand…" He sneered, dangerously hissing in Scott's face but he held his ground. He wasn't scared of Logan, in fact he understood Logan's pain and he was going to prove it.

"Try me." Scott said just as forcefully and maneuvered himself between Logan and his bike.

"Get. The. Fuck. Outta my way." Logan said slowly, balling his fist. Shaking with anger.

"Not until you stop acting like a little bitch." Scott said crossing his arm.

"What did you just call me?" His eyes flashed. He widened his stance. His teeth grinding, His eyes turning smokey black like storm clouds about to erupt.

"I called you a selfish, scared little bitch, running away from his problems and leaving everyone who's ever taken the time to get to know him worried sick!" This time Scott was poking him in his chest. Logan was taken aback. Was he purposely bating him? His anger finally boiled over and Scott could see the change. It was like a switch was flipped. His eyes became lifeless orbs, wide and unsettling. His lip curled back into this sinister grin and the rainwater dripped off of his sharp canines. His shoulders curled forward and he growled low. Crouching he stood ready to pounce.

"You wanna know how I feel, Scotty…want me to share?" The sound of his voice sent shivers through Scott. He could feel the power pouring off of the man standing so close to him. Logan took the one step forward that eclipsed the space between them. Now his packed muscles were pressed snug against him. He could feel the older mans chest rumble as he growled. Scott's breathing caught. He bit his lip willing his body to calm down, surprised at how his body was reacting to Logan's presence. With a sharp intake through his nose Logan inhaled the younger man, laying his nose against his vulnerable neck. Scott could feel the rough whiskers of Logan's ever growing beard brush against his cheek. The Hairy mutant grunted then let his lips part once again into a dangerous smirk. Could Logan tell how aroused he was? Scott thought with panic. Then Logan just stared and Scott found himself lost him his eyes finally realizing that he was waiting for him to answer his question. Did he want to know how he felt?

"Yeah…I wanna know how you feel." Scott said breathlessly. If it was even possible for Logan to get even closer he did. Pinning Scott firmly between him and his bike. Scott watched Logan's lips as the feral curl disappeared and his face became more neutral. The thin masculine lips of Logan, slightly parted, The rain water seeming to trace every curve and slope of his face. His clothes clung to every possible muscle and his hair framed his face. Scott's lips parting in anticipation of Logan's lips pressed against his so hard they bruise. Then it happened. In a flash Logan's fist met with Scott's abdomen with no mercy. Scott yelped immediately curling forward, holding his stomach. His knees buckled and he slumped to the ground.

"That's how I feel, That's how I fucking feel! You can take that back to the mansion and share." Logan growled out and stepped over the writing man on the ground. He hopped on his bike. Taking the time to light a cigar from his pocket that was slightly soggy from the rain. Scott balled his fists. He was embarrassed, his pride demanded he do something and lightening fast he was on his feet. He lunged at Logan full force causing them both to topple to the ground coating them with mud and dirt. That was it. It was on and someone was gonna die tonight. Logan's explosive feral rage against Scott's red-hot optic blasts. They fought long and hard but as Scott suspected no matter what he did he couldn't keep the Wolverine down. He was getting tired, getting sloppy and the anger and humiliation he had felt before had left 15 minuets into the fight. Finally it was the last showdown. Scott was too tired and couldn't go on anymore. They stood on either side of the lot, panting. Logan came at Scott with claws fully extended. He charged with surprising speed and Scott had to make a split second decision. He didn't have time to measure he quickly reached up and tore off his shades sending a wide burst at Logan. Through the haze of red Scott could see he was too late, Logan was already on him and as the blast hit him square in the chest Logan extended his arm and took a powerful swipe racking his claws across Scott's chest before being hurled with deadly force down the parking lot. Groggily readjusting his sunglasses Scott put a hand against his chest and was greeted with warm blood. The adrenaline wouldn't let him feel the pain but the shortness of breath told him all he needed to know.. Scott moaned and fell to his knees holding his chest with one hand and bracing himself with the other. He heard and long moan come from the distance and he knew that Logan or should he say the wolverine was coming back to his senses. A moan and then a wet gurgle of someone's whose lungs were filled with blood rattled his bones. He could hear thick-soled boots sloshing through the mud toward him. He didn't have the energy to move. His survival instincts kicked in but he could muster enough energy to even look up. A shadow loomed over him in silence. He could hear the distinct sound of knitting flesh and labored lungs.

"Let's get back to the mansion. Jean needs ta patch you up." Logan said, no longer did he have the dangerous edge to his voice. Scott ground up the energy to Look up and found Logan hunched over and unsteady. The grotesque wound on his chest slowly closing but from the way he was swaying Scott assumed there were some internal injuries his body needed to take care of as well.

"Your not looking to hot yourself." Scott slurred. His world was going dark and he looked down at the puddle of blood, water, and mud he had made around himself. Logan bent down to help the younger man up almost toppling over.

"Not feelin' to hot. Whatcha do, hit me full blast? You really were out for blood. Didn't know you had it in ya." Logan struggled in saying as he heaved Scott off the ground and put his arm around his shoulder. Steadying him, they made the slow walk to Logan's bike.

"Had to knock some sense into you." Scott said with a delirious grin.

"Or kill me trying…" Logan snorted trying to keep the conversation light. Trying not to show how worried he was about the amount of blood Scott had lost and about possible infection. His mind cleared as he stared at his bike in bewilderment, it took some time to figure out how he was going to manage getting the mortally wounded X-man home.

"Scott, you gonna have to stay awake and hold on ta me or your gonna fall off this bike. Alright?" With a tentative nod and a grimace at the rumble of the bike when it started up Scott snaked his arms around Logan's waist and held on as tight as his exhausted muscles would allow. Logan slowly made his way out of the parking lot and onto the road. The rain hadn't let up one bit so their ride was slow and long. He could feel the blood from Scott's wound soaking into his back and the younger man's grip loosening.

"Stay with me Scott! We're almost there!" He yelled over the roar of the bike. If Scott died tonight he'd die with him. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. This man had done nothing but try to extend his hand to him in friendship and he had all but chopped it off. This is the man who had witnessed something he had only let one other see. Scott had seen him cry. He found himself growing angry with Scott for egging him on. What was he trying to prove? Then he remembered his scent. The scent of lust and arousal that seemed to emanate from his every pour. The scent was inviting. He had used it against him because it frightened him but now he found himself wanting to smell it again instead of blood and dirt.

"Fucking boy scout." He muttered as he pulled into the driveway of Xavier's school for gifted youngsters.

TBC