Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. Whilst I feel that this totally bites, I think Wolverine, Rouge, Pyro, Jean, Cyclops, etc., are in great hands with Marvel and whoever else owns them.

Notes: Wow. That's the most reviews I've gotten for a prologue. Guess I'm continuing.

Note2: THIS IS ONLY THE FIRST CHAPTER! NO MATTER HOW MUCH I TRY, THEY ARE ALWAYS SHORT! I CANNOT HELP THAT!

To answer a question: Yes, X1 happened. Just take John out of it, and you're good.

Warnings: Extreme AU, language, violence, sex, and pretty much everything else an 'M' rating entails. Heh. Enjoy.

Chapter One

She sat by herself, as she often did during this time of day. Alone in the squashy blue recliner facing the large glass window of the game room. Her brown eyes would scan the outside with gentle concentration, a soft smile on her face as she watched the younger students go about their fun and games. A part of her yearned to have that carefree freedom once again – to be free of the responsibilities that had fallen on her nearly a year ago. She tortured herself by watching, and she knew it. But she just . . . couldn't help it.

Marie D'Ancato, or Rogue, as she preferred to be called, was not alone by force. Kitty Pryde and Jubilation Lee, her roommates, always held an open spot for her on the couch in front of the television. Though Rogue did appreciate the gesture, she was unable to bring herself to comply. The elbow-length gloves on her hands, the long jeans, the scarf – they all reminded her of how she didn't fit in – couldn't fit in. Not even here, in a boarding school for mutants.

Professor Xavier had been trying to help her control her power, but their sessions were quickly becoming fruitless, even dangerous. Whilst her power never rebelled against her personally, anytime the professor attempted to enter her head, she could feel it push back. This last time, she knew he had, too. Thus the reason he had ended their session early today.

"What are you lookin' at?" The familiar warm voice of Robert Drake cut into her thoughts, and despite herself, Rogue couldn't help but smile. Bobby was the only student on campus who didn't flinch if she got too close. The only student who had enough courage to risk touching her, even if it was only through clothes. He had even gone so far as asking her on a date, and was now the boy who was unfortunate enough to be labeled her "boyfriend".

Not that he seemed to mind.

"Hey," she greeted. "Class out already?" Bobby just grinned.

"Bathroom," he stated triumphantly, and Rogue gave a small chuckle. "Why are you over here again?" Bobby continued, motioning over the chair. "I heard Kitty got into Dr. Grey's private DVD collection and snagged Spider Man. Why don't you come watch it with me?" To further his chances, Bobby gave her the largest puppy eyes he could manage, and allowed his lower lip to stick out just a bit. "Please?"

Rogue was unaffected, and simply rolled her eyes and offered a lazy smile.

"I'm good here, thanks," she replied, feeling a small bit of guilt as her boyfriend's expression went crestfallen. "You can go ahead and watch it, though," she added quickly. Bobby only looked torn for a second, before his grin was back in place. Rogue's heart jumped a bit as an immense twinkle shown in his icy blue eyes.

"If you're sure." The brunette nodded, unable to contain her smile as the taller boy reached for her gloved hand. Gently, he grazed his lips over it, sent her one last smile, and then jogged off to sit in her seat between Kitty and Jubilee.

Rogue waited until she was sure Bobby was no longer looking before allowing her smile to slip off of her face. She had felt guilty about dating Bobby the second she agreed to become his girlfriend. It wasn't fair to make him be with someone he could never touch. He was a teenage boy, and Lord knew teenage boys only had one thing on their minds. It wouldn't be long before he noticed that, too, and dumped her for someone he could actually kiss.

With a sigh, Rogue turned back to the window, once again watching the children in their games.

She wished Logan were here. He was the only one who had ever made her feel completely normal; completely wanted. That was something she had been missing since he took off a year ago. And damn it, no matter how much she tried to deny it, she really wanted that back.

0o0

Though everyone he had cared enough to ask advised against it, he had taken the back way to Alkali Lake. He had traveled over countless over-run hiking trails, and more than his fair share of thorn bushes. Enough obstacles to give his claws a decent workout. It was the longest, and perhaps most dangerous, way to the lake – he had been offered several short-cuts and rides – but he found himself oddly hesitant to reach it. Almost as a part of him had changed its mind about going there.

Which pissed him off to no end.

Logan had never been a patient man, at least, not in the past sixteen years. Whilst this extended trip was one-hundred percent voluntary, it was slowing driving him mad. He had been traveling to Alkali Lake for nearly a year. Far too long, of that he had decided two months ago. He was worried, strangely enough, about Marie. The memory of her lifeless form was still freshly implanted in his brain. He held no faith in the plastic prison Magneto was now confined to, and couldn't help but fear that the man still had the twisted idea of turning the rest of humanity into mutants. And if that was the case, the metal-loving mutant freak would build the damned machine again.

Which meant he would need Marie. And that thought was almost responsible for sending his ass racing back to Xavier's mansion on Scooter's motorcycle. It was the compelling desire to discover his past that kept Logan surging forward.

He didn't know what he expected to find – not really. Chuck had given him no clues, nothing that he could set his hopes on. He had flown out of the mansion assuming that he was being sent to some place that would trigger his memory. For all he knew, all that could be at Alkali Lake was a pink fuzzy rabbit slipper he had worn before he had been put in the tank.

Subconsciously, something told him different. Something continued to drive him toward what he believed was a dead end. Vaguely familiar scents throughout the mountains and woods were working their way on confirming his hope.

"God, I sound like a poet," Logan muttered distastefully under his breath, frowning at the very thought.

"Grrrr."

The amnesiac mutant simply arched an eyebrow at the snarling wolf, unimpressed with the show of fangs. With a snort, Logan released his claws, smirking slightly as the wolf stopped its actions with a jolt of surprise.

"Wanna fight me, bub?" He asked, voice low. When the wolf simply continued to stare, he sighed and retracted the adamantium blades. "Thought not. Don't suppose you could show me what I'm really looking for?"

'Yeah, Wolverine. Go ahead and talk to the dog. Moron.'

Logan was surprised when, after just a second's hesitation, the wolf took off in the other direction. Shaking his head, he sighed.

"What the hell have I got to lose?"

Only twenty steps in, and he smelled it. The all-too familiar scent of sulfur, people, and death. Though he would later blame it on pure, morbid curiosity, Logan raced forward, a slight sense of fear racing through his veins.

He hit the clear right after the wolf, but unlike the snow-white animal, he stopped dead in his tracks, never having expected the sight that greeted his eyes.

0o0

He couldn't describe what he was feeling right now. It was totally different than anything he had ever experienced in his short life. The exact opposite of what he had been enjoying only a few days before, when he had sent his hellish prison up in an orange burst of fire. He didn't like this new sensation – not in the slightest. It was draining, horrible, forsaken –

Cold.

John was in pain from head to toe, but the freezing temperature of the snow thankfully kept his mind away from it. Every time he managed to crack open his eyes, he saw nothing but smoldering debris and white. He had no clue as to what this white stuff exactly was, but knew that he would never, ever like it.

He couldn't move. Lord knew he tried; tried so hard that he was certain he had pulled several muscles in the process. He had seriously overused his energy in his rebellion, leaving him weak and susceptible to any attack. Whenever he fell in to unconsciousness, he would see Stryker standing over him, laughing. And then he would be back in his tank; only it would be much more advanced this time. No chance of escape. No hope. No life.

'Shut up, John,' he growled mentally.

His escape was not going the way he had planned at all. He was supposed to become freed, and then he would run, back into the civilization from which he had been torn away. Somehow, he would stumble home, and there would be people waiting for him. A family. One that had been worried about him, and would accept him for what he was.

'Alright, a crackpot's dream,' he admitted to himself. 'But it's cool anyway.'

The cold was a minor setback, albeit an annoying one. Not exactly how John had hoped his fist outing would be, but it worked. As soon as he got himself to his feet, he would put the rest of his plan into action.

Every minute he stayed still was another minute he put himself in danger. He wasn't an idiot – he knew Stryker had gotten out of the base before it had blown up. John knew that he could be unfortunate enough to be important to the man, and thus fall victim to a recapture. Despite himself, he shuddered at the thought.

The sound of crunching suddenly assaulted his ears. On reflex that he had been forced to acquire, John instantly locked into self-preservation mode, joints bent so that he could spring up at any second. Screw the fucking pain. Slowly, he turned his eyes to the source, and felt a small tinge of fear in the pit of his stomach.

A man, taller and prouder than any he had ever seen, was standing two yards away, staring at John with a mixture of surprise and a foreign emotion etched on his face.

The pyrotic mutant took no chances. Before either male could blink, he was on his feet, his mind screaming with pain, and his arm stretched forward, fire shooting from the palm.

0o0

Logan should have seen it coming, really. His instincts had always been top notch, never failing him, never leaving him to fend for himself. He never approached anyone without caution, especially not someone in such a suspicious, compromising position as the pale boy he had stumbled over. Who in the hell went out in the snow only clothed in a pair of thin pants? Pants that had obviously been wet whilst being worn.

But he was going soft these days, and didn't even think to move out of the way of the hurtling flame. It hit him full blast, and any mortal man would have perished. It hurt like seven kinds of hell, more so than when Magneto had bent his metal body with his twisted powers. He could feel his skin frying off, all the way down to the metal, heating it, which only added to the pain. For what seemed like hours, the fire raged before beginning to die. He could feel his tissue and skin slowly reforming. His clothes, oddly enough, were only singed, which Logan suspected had something to do with the professor's temporary hold on them. His hair was rapidly popping back into place, and with a shake to remove the soot from his person, Logan turned back toward the boy.

"Self-healing or not, that hurt. Don't do it again," he snarled. The younger man did not seem to take the hint, though, and raised his hand again, causing Logan to sigh. However, all that followed was a small, short-lived burst of flame. The boy collapsed to his knees, and then fell back, obviously thoroughly exhausted. Logan sighed again.

"Shit." He stepped forward, keeping his claws inside, having no immediate intention of killing the boy. Definitely going soft.

Well, there was no way in hell he was going to pull another 'Marie' and rescue and take this mutant to Xavier's. No way.

"Don't. Touch. Me." The brunette pyromaniac growled between gasps for air. Logan watched with disguised concern as the boy attempted to pull himself away, and froze when he caught his eye. There was resentment there, as well as a large amount of rage. A glimmer of intelligence rarely seen surrounded the irises. And in the center, though faint, was a spark of emotion he had only seen so strong in Marie. Fear. A deep fear. One that could only be brought about by extreme horrors.

"I ain't gonna hurt ya, kid," Logan snapped, and the mutant winced and looked away. Logan took the moment to examine their surroundings, frowning in surprise as he did so. Though most everything was burned to a crisp, some things were left smoldering, but standing. Several broken computer monitors were perched atop burned electronic boxes that held more buttons than Logan could care to count. Several wires were scattered all about the ground, some with needles on the ends, others with suction cups. What looked to be hospital equipment was all huddled in the corner of what had obviously been a room, just next to . . .

Logan froze. The remains of a tank – not unlike the one in his nightmares – was staring him right in the face.

"If. You're looking for the. Other scientists. You're too late," the other mutant rasped out, reminding Logan he was still there. The older man whirled around, watching the boy relax into the snow, a satisfied, sadistic smile on his face.

"They did experiments on you?" He blurted out. The boy, however, didn't reply. Logan noticed, not happily, that his breathing had somewhat even out, signifying unconsciousness.

"Shit," Logan growled, exasperation and anger flowing over him. "Shit, shit, shit." He walked over toward the half-naked mutant, and growled again.

He was going to have to pull a 'Marie', rescue the mutant, and take him to Xavier's. And he couldn't even do that today – it was already showing signs of approaching night.

Gently, despite his mood, Logan lifted the younger man up, holding him infant style.

"I don't care what they did to ya, kid," the Wolverine stated gruffly, his boots crunching through the snow. "If you burn me, you're dead. End of story." And he began to head back toward the highway where he had hidden Scooter's bike, ignoring the wolf, which was slowly making its way toward the other side of one of the walls. Had Logan followed, he would have noticed the stairs in the ground, which would have lead him to all of his answers and more.

0o0

Three hundred miles away, resting quite comfortably in his own personal hospital, in his own personal bed, William Stryker clicked the 'send' button on his lap top computer, sending information to his partners on the mutant control formula. In just a month, his plan would be put into action.

Not that he had anything personal against the president. In fact, he rather liked the man. However, sometimes sacrifices just had to be made.

And Kurt Wagner was the perfect mutant to carry that out.

To be continued . . .

You have my word that the nextchapter will be longer, much longer, and much better.

I had to getthis storystarted somehow.

More John and Rogue in the next chapter, with Logan/John bonding.More detailed, more action . . . you get the picture. You better hope you do, anyway, 'cause I ain't giving nothin' else away. -smirk- Update coming soon.

On a lighter note, I got to see X3 again yesterday. The scene after the credits wasn't that long, but it was definitely worth it. Did y'all know that Fox has confirmed X4? I'm ecstatic.

Also, when you review, if you would like me to reply, please just say so (I promise not to think it rude). I used to reply, but then I got bawled out by some moron who called me a 'stalker', which totally destroyed my taste for the whole thing. So, yeah, just tell me, and I will. Pinkie swear –wink-.

Speaking of reviews, you know what to do.

Valve,

Me

By the way, sorry about Marie's last name. I had a brain fart and couldn't remember how to spell it to save my life. Sorry.