I'm back! And here's Logan!

Some context: Maia was kidnapped in April of 1982, and Logan is freed from Stryker by Jean and Co. sometime in 1983 during X-men: Apocalypse. So all the events thus far have occurred during that time period. This chapter has us in 1994 with essentially the X-Men movie cast, post Logan bringing Rogue to the Mansion.

(Also, there's liberal use of the 'F' word by Logan, so if that bothers you...sorry...also, you probably shouldn't watch 'Logan' the movie, he really likes that word.)

"Gravedigger
When you dig my grave
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger

Ring around the rosy
Pocket full of posy
Ashes to ashes
We all fall down."

(Gravedigger- Willie Nelson)

God damnit, he was tired of nightmares. Especially not when they didn't make a damned bit of sense. This one was extra special, and unfortunately recurring, his least favorite. He was fucking Jean from behind, a hand wrapped tightly in her hair. He'd woken up to a sticky mess in his bed, which was actually worse than when he clawed his furniture in his sleep. Clawed furniture he could forget about for a few days, at least until he got a spare minute to fix it, but messed bedding…yeah, leaving that was a nonstarter. So he found himself downstairs bright and early intent on shoving his sheets in the first empty washing machine he could find…for the sixth time in three weeks.

Of course his luck was so shitty that Scott caught him, and the little bastard had the nerve to laugh, "Good night? Didn't see anyone leaving, so that's an improvement. Charles really hates when your guests stay the night. It sets a bad example for the kids."

"Shut the fuck up." Logan growled, but the asshole couldn't keep his mouth closed.

"The drinking isn't much better, and Ororo hates your smok-" Logan cut him off with a right hook.

They brawled for a few minutes, and they had almost resorted to claws and laser eyes when Jean came on scene. "Hey, cut it out!"

"Jean!" Scott yelled, looking like a kid that had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

She stood between them, hands on on her hips, a perfect impersonation of a flustered mother, "What are you two thinking? The students are about to be up and about at any minute. They don't need to see you two fighting first thing in the morning!"

"One Eye started it." Logan said darkly, slamming the washing machine door shut.

Scott scoffed, "Come on, Jean, he threw the first punch. I was just giving him a hard time about his urgency to wash his sheets."

Logan resisted the urge to gut the other mutant. Jean wouldn't like that, she looked mistrustful as it was in the morning light. "Could've been I was trying to avoid your sorry ass."

Jean sighed, shooing Scott away, "What's going on, Logan?"

Logan started to walk away from her, "Can't a guy wash his damned laundry in peace?"

She wasn't giving up though, as stubborn as she was, he should have expected her following him into the hall, "Logan, I can tell something's up. Did you have another nightmare? Please, let me help you."

Logan wheeled around to stare at her, "I don't need your help, Jean. You think I wet the damn bed?" Her expression said it all, and managed to make him even madder, "For fucks sake, I did not wet the bed. It was a wet dream, Jean. I came in my sleep like a teenaged boy. Is that all?" She opened her mouth to say something, and he growled, "Fine, you want to know? Just look. Maybe then you'll leave me alone for a fucking hour."

It was cruel. But letting her see every moment of his dream was sure to scare the girl away. She stood blinking for a few minutes, and finally stared at him, "Who is she?"

Logan stared back at her, "You really need to spell it out for you?"

Jean shook her head, "If you think that was me, it's not, I don't have a birthmark on my shoulder, and that wasn't a dream. It was a memory."

Logan felt like she'd punched him, "A memory?"

She nodded, and frowned, "We should talk to the Professor."

He scoffed at her, "I'm not going to the Professor about some broad I may have screwed back in the day."

"I think you should." Jean whispered, "Logan, the room you were in in your dream…I'm pretty sure it's the same one we broke you out of at Alkali Lake. We thought you were alone."

Logan could smell a sudden jolt of fear from behind him, and turned around slowly, "What do you know, Hank?"

The blue haired man flinched. "I…uh…don't know anything."

Logan let his claws slide out of his skin, "Squeal, Furball."

Hank whimpered, and Logan was inches away from skinning him when the Professor intervened, "Logan, enough. I think it best we talk in my office. Jean, would you please have Scott cover Logan's classes." Logan followed him, trepidation in every fiber of him. Things had been much simpler when it had just been a hormonal surge. A memory. A memory of a girl he couldn't remember. A memory that Hank and Charles seemed to know something about. A memory they hadn't told him about.

Charles smelled like scarcely covered anxiety, but looked serene, his hands folded in front of him, "Logan, about eight or so years ago, Hank recovered some video from your time with Mr. Stryker. Less than five minutes and damaged, but the girl Jean saw in your memory… she's in it." He gestured to the screen behind his desk. "We didn't tell you then, and I apologize. I believed that something like this might be best left in the past."

So he watched himself burst into that damnable room, and roughly fuck a red haired woman. A teenager really. A pregnant teenager. Pregnant with his child. The video didn't tell him that, but he knew it, knew by the way he'd touched her stomach, they way he'd been gentle with her even while being rough. Her smile. Her blue eyes. Every strand of red hair. He didn't remember her, but he could tell by the way he'd been with her that he'd cared deeply for her.

She was in labor, he understood that, and he felt the same panic that video him was obviously feeling.

Then they weren't alone.

She was no match for them, and he wasn't able to save her. Her scream would haunt him forever.

When the video ended, Logan turned on Charles, "Who was she?"

Charles shook his head, "We don't know. There were no records recovered from the facility about her. You now know as much as we know."

"Which is shit." Logan snarled, "All we know is I fucked a girl, knocked her up, and she died."

Charles looked down at his hands, "And the child."

"And the child." Logan echoed, but the words felt wrong, like he knew something else. He ignored the feeling, and walked out of the room. The girl's face followed him, and he wondered how he'd ever thought she was Jean. Jean was beautiful and kind, but the girl, she appealed deep down to the animal that lived inside of him. She hadn't belonged to him, she'd belonged to the Wolverine, and now she was dead. Charles was right, he'd have been better off not knowing.

He didn't do emotions.

Thanks to everyone who's still with me! Hopefully the next chapter is up tomorrow!

-Jenn