This chapter took a bit longer than I thought it was going to, I thought I knew what I was going to write and then I realised that I had no idea and there was a whole big kafuffle. But it's all been fixed and it's all good. Enjoy.



There are a few facts that are known universally. Known by everyone from the savvy businesswoman in the city, to the aging hermit in the mountains. One of these facts is where babies come from. Another is when two grown male animals are in a confined space for extended periods of time, things get ugly. Neither Victor Creed nor Logan were animals, but after being called that for so long, they had come to sometimes believe it—and act accordingly.

Now was one of those times.

They were in a stone cell, too small for one man to live in comfortably, never mind two feral mutants. Logan paced the length of the cell, which was only six steps, and back again. He was trying to keep his mind off of gutting Victor and leaving him to die on the floor, since everything his brother did seemed to infuriate him. Victor was sitting in the corner at that moment, scratching shapes into the wall and colouring them in with his nails. The constant screeching from his actions had a direct correlation with the scowl on Logan's face. And after another ten minutes of the two brothers continuing with each of their annoying coping mechanisms, Logan flipped.

"For god's sake, Victor," He growled after spinning to face the other mutant with his claws out and to his side, "If you don't stop doin' that right now, I swear I'll tear you in two."

Victor, whose mood was no better, snarled viciously, "Yeah? An' what about you? If you don't stop pacin' I'm going to rip you to shreds." He threatened as he stood up, his nails becoming talon-like as he took a step towards Logan.

Logan wasn't threatened by his brother and held his ground, causing a standoff to be put into action as each of the men were unwilling to back down. They stood stock still in their respective spots for a minute, seizing each other up, wondering how serious the other one was. It was soon apparent to both of them, however, that each was just as intent on this course of action as the other. Victor was the first to make a move by shifting his weight slightly back, getting ready for a good pounce. There was no hint of the usual dark smirk that he reserved for when he was about to hurt something. Instead, all Logan could see was a deeply passionate fury that would make anyone else quiver. Any other time, Logan would take that as a sign to back off and to talk Victor down from his murderous purpose. But then, this wasn't any other time and Logan was fed up. Logan mirrored Victor's action of shifting his weight, but he went onto the balls of his feet rather than his heels. It was no less of a deadly preparation, but just showed how different the styles between siblings could be.

"C'mon Runt, you know you can't beat me. Just back down and I'll leave you in one piece." Victor said with such an evil grin that the young James Howlett would have flinched from, seeing so much of their late father in the man. But Logan was stronger now then when he was a child, and he was furious that Victor could even stand to look like the man. With a roar befitting of a bear, Logan tensed his whole body for a split second before lunging at his brother with the intent to kill. Victor too, choose almost that exact same time to do the same and they ended up meeting each other half way, Logan getting the upper hand—barely—as they fell to the ground with him on top. Logan drove his claws into Victor's shoulders and snapped his teeth as his brother struggled. If Victor hadn't been under the influence of his own inner beast, he would have realised that Logan's animal was controlling his little brother's body. The Wolverine had come out to play and brought along his usual infuriated frenzy of violence. But Victor didn't realise and his Sabertooth certainly didn't care as he used the sheer body bulk to flip the Wolverine off of him. There was a deep rumble in the Sabertooth's chest as he stumbled to his feet quickly and readied his claws again. The Wolverine was already waiting as he got up. The damn animal was always the faster one of the two of them—quicker healer too. Before the Wolverine could use his speed to his advantage, Sabertooth took the first move and ran at him, dropping to the floor in an attempt to knock the legs from under his opponent. But Wolverine had seen it coming and was already carrying out a sideways lunge to dodge it. Sabertooth growled at his failed plan and swiped his hand out, not expecting to catch anything, but pleasantly surprised when Wolverine's perfectly executed evasive technique was ruined. Knocked off balance, Wolverine fell to the ground in an undignified lump. Before he could jump back to his feet, Sabertooth was on him, bringing his arm behind him to get a powerful slash across his brother's back. Wolverine howled in pain as he tore his top and left deep gashes in his flesh, so deep that Sabertooth was sure he felt the other beast's spine give way under his nail. He had probably severed the spinal cord, because the smaller animal collapsed to the ground and stilled, unable to move. Sabertooth took that opportunity to continue with his onslaught, causing blood to splatter on him, the walls and of course, his brother. After merely seconds of frustrated helplessness, the Wolverine had healed and he violently thrust himself off of the ground with his strong arms, knocking Sabertooth off balance and off of him. Wolverine whirled and shoved Sabertooth into the wall, burrowing his claws deep into the other's gut and twisted them. Sabertooth let out a pained yowl and forced his arms to move in an attempt to push the other mutant away. But Wolverine, seeing Sabertooth's intent, quickly pulled his claws out of the flesh and then in a swift succession of jabs, forced his bone back in and out of the damaged body. Sabertooth scrunched up his face in pain, trying to ride it out before seeing how useless it was. Instead, he jerked his leg up and kicked Wolverine off of him. Gasping for air, Sabertooth snarled sadistically at the other predator in the room, warning him without words to stay away unless he wanted to get really hurt. Wolverine knew it was just a ploy to stall until the slower healing process started to take place in his brother's body, but still kept his distance. There was no point in finishing a fight with this much anger behind it so quickly. It had to last if there was going to be any value taken from it. Wolverine made a strange sound that was halfway between a growl and a bark as he became impatient waiting on his sparing partner. Sabertooth gave him a warning look. He was already aggravated at his own slow healing; he didn't need some mutt telling him what he knew himself.

Finally, Sabertooth could feel his body's sluggish rejuvenating process start to kick in and he almost sighed with relief. Once it started, the painful wounds he had received from the Wolverine were fixed within seconds and he grinned at his opponent to show he was patched up and ready for round two.

Wolverine barely waited for the grin on his brother's face before lunging straight for him, his weapons aimed for his intestines. But Sabertooth was ready and he hit the claws out of the way and snatched Wolverine by the throat with one hand. The free hand was making similar patterns on his stomach to the ones that had been on his back. Wolverine struggled but was unable to break Sabertooth's grasp on him this time. He gasped in pain and squirmed fruitlessly.

Some time during the fight, the thick iron door to their cell had opened in an attempt of their captors to figure out what all the commotion was. Sabertooth noticed this and flung Wolverine to the side.

Sabertooth faded away as the primary consciousness of Victor's body and the real him came out as soon as he saw someone enter the room. Victor lunged at the person and snapped his neck. Sometimes it was handy to let his beast have such free reign since it didn't mind going back into its dormant state when he needed it to. Victor looked over at the Wolverine who was looking at him with wild eyes that were wide with confusion.

"Yo, Jimmy," Victor called, "Pull yourself together; I need you here."

Wolverine blinked for a moment, puzzled and trying desperately to decipher Victor's words. It only took a brief struggle before Logan emerged from his state and took his place beside Victor.

"Sorry 'bout that." Logan muttered uncomfortably, rubbing his jaw.

"Yeah, yeah, tell me later when we're out of this mess." Victor replied distractedly, sniffing the air for enemies or a way out. "I think I smell fresh air this way." Victor said, pointing to the left.

As the brothers stepped out of the cell that had been their home for the past ten days, Logan took a moment to study the place. They were on a long corridor of iron doors just like the one that had kept them captive for so long. Other than that, it was dark, dank and smelled slightly of rotting vegetables. One of the few sources of light in the area came from a bare light bulb that was yellowed with age and dust and was flickering on and off in a rhythm that resembled a SOS signal. Logan took a quick sniff of the air also and confirmed that Victor's nose was right; left led to their freedom. But Logan picked up something that his brother hadn't.

"We're about to get company." Logan said, indicating with his head to the right.

Victor grinned, turning to the smell. "Let's not be rude then, Jimmy. Because, I for one want to know why we've been brought here."

Logan nodded. "Way ahead of you, bub."

The two mutants waited with their built-in weapons readied. The sound of footsteps approaching caused both of them to smirk. Logan was glad he was in a mean mood today, because there was no way he was going to regret giving his former captors what they deserved.


After World War II, Victor and Logan had wandered. The world had seemed bigger, somehow and suddenly there was a lot more to it then just the wars and the violence they had taken part in. But the world was changing back then and Logan knew with more anxiety then was necessary that soon the era they had known so well would die and a new one would be born. Logan didn't know why the changing world had such an effect on him at that time of all the possible times, but it did and the animal in him told him not to ignore it. So he grabbed Victor and they had left the small Polish hovel they had been staying in since the fall of Berlin and travelled further east. Their journey took them to the Northern nations of Norway and Sweden and then to the great USSR state that had encompassed so many countries at the time. Victor never complained about Logan's sudden urge to run away from whatever ghosts his brother was afraid of, he didn't care if it was Canada or Cambodia, he'd still be doing the same thing. He'd be looking for things to exterminate. The only problem was that he had always found it harder to do that when there wasn't a war on. However, the thought of going into essentially uncharted lands had a certain appeal for Victor; it gave him more opportunity to seek out some 'entertainment'. So he followed Logan without complaint—mostly—and indeed on occasion got the bloody diversions that kept him amused. Logan seemed to drift during that time, turning into something that was neither the bloodthirsty animal, nor the almost naïve little brother that Victor knew and understood. Instead, he had settled in an uneasy middle of the two, which only let Victor see his brother for short bursts of personality. But even though he wasn't the most patient of people, he knew that Logan would come back to his old self, once his pansy ass soul-searching trip was finished.

But Victor hadn't understood Logan's absolute need to get rid of the routine of killing and maiming that they had fallen into. Maybe it was cowardly for him to drag them across countries and continents so that he could flee from the all too real thoughts of what he had done. Logan was man enough to admit that it probably was cowardice that drove him to the drastic change in lifestyle—and it was drastic; they had never travelled anywhere they weren't posted to. If they saw a country, it was only through the eyes of soldiers and then the countries only ever showed the worst parts of themselves. It was different to see how different cultures operated when they were at peace. It was…nice. But it wasn't like their new lifestyle was all talking with the natives and finding the best local restaurant. No, Logan didn't exactly want that and Victor sure as hell didn't. Instead, there was a lot of fighting.

They hired themselves out sometimes, like mercenaries. They'd protect some illegal goods here and maybe kill some shady character there. It's what enabled them to keep on living in that way. Not only that, but it kept Victor quiet and made for a comfortable constant in their lives. Unfortunately, it was because of that 'comfortable constant' that they had gotten caught up in all that mess of being imprisoned by some two-bit troupe.

During their travels, the two mutants had stumbled into the height of the troubles of a 1946 India. It wasn't anything to do with them; it was a civil problem between the Hindus and the Muslims that lived in the state. Masses of people had been hurt or killed in the violent, chaotic riots that raged in the city that had been called Bombay back then. Victor had been ecstatic to find the discord that they had practically tripped on and had convinced Logan to stay around and see what the story was. Some time later, they met a British RAF pilot in a British owned drinking establishment. He told the brothers that he was posted in the area to re-establish peace and to stop the riots. After a few hours of drinking their hearts out, the British pilot told them that if they wanted to, they could probably join the fighting. Victor had jumped at it, but Logan was a little more hesitant, and with good reason too. It wouldn't be soldiers they would be fighting against, but people. Normal civilians, some of whom had just gotten caught up in something they didn't want to be. But Victor wouldn't listen and he eventually convinced Logan to go along with it.

"It's just another battle, Jimmy," Victor had told him quietly so their new British soldier friend couldn't hear, "All a soldier is, is a normal person who put their signature on a piece of paper and was given a gun for it."

So they became temporary members of the British army.

Riots were messy at the best of times, and these ones had been until Victor and Logan stepped in to make their mark. All in all, there was not as much action as Victor had hoped there would be. Mostly it was just standing around looking threatening, but even the hope of some fighting managed to keep him fairly entertained. However, the riots ended all too soon, in Victor's opinion, and it was only as they prepared to leave the country that the real trouble had started.

It was because of that RAF pilot. It was all because of him and his damn greediness.

"So you two are mutants, eh?" He had asked one day during their midday break in another bar run by another British man.

Victor had grunted and Logan took another drink.

"So, like, what can you do? I've never met a mutant before."

Victor, who had been talkative for weeks, seemed happy enough to answer his questions, while Logan just stayed quiet drinking more and more to stop himself from making snide remarks. He couldn't help it; there was something about that man that just rubbed him the wrong way. And for some reason, the animal inside of him screamed that this man was untrustworthy and should be hunted down and killed. Logan had voiced his suspicions to his brother but Victor had just waved him off, saying that he was just being grumpy. And besides, he had added, it wasn't like they could be hurt or anything even if he was going to try something.

It was because of that attitude that Logan was proven right and Victor was forced to grudgingly accept it.

The RAF pilot, a man named Richard Cromwell, had offered to take them out to 'the darker side of Indian entertainment'. Neither Victor nor Logan knew what this was supposed to be, and Cromwell had refused to tell them, insisting it was a secret. Logan could have killed Victor a hundred times over for his curiosity concerning all things unknown and that was one of those times.

Cromwell took them into the slums of the city, more of a shantytown than a part of the great Bombay. The squalor in that place in comparison to the rest of the city was enough to make anyone's stomach churn. To think that the rich-poor divide could be so great in a space of a few hundred meters was baffling, and even though they were so close to each other, it was a completely different world.

Hungry eyes looked up at the trio as they past through the dirty streets and dilapidated huts. Children and old men watched them intently as they moved, no one else had the time though, they were all to busy in their own world of poverty. During that time, Logan was waiting for some poor kid to make the stupid mistake of trying to pick-pocket either him, Victor or Cromwell, but thankfully, they all seemed to know the risk of being caught wouldn't be worth the measly amount they had on their person. Logan knew neither Victor nor the RAF man would be as kind to the idiot who tried anything on them and so when they made it to their destination with their belongings still with them, Logan sighed in relief. It was a sigh he quickly regretted when he realised where they were.

The house they had entered had a small manhole in the back room. In that manhole was a long passageway that led to another room. When Logan and Victor made it to that room, they stopped and looked around.

"What the hell is this?" Logan ground out, talking to Cromwell despite the code of silence he had previously followed.

Cromwell grinned. "Some places fight dogs, some fight birds. Here, they fight people."

Logan couldn't even try and deny that what the man said was true. It seemed obvious enough really; the huge cage in the middle seemed to just scream 'cage-fight'. Yet the sheer bulk of the cage seemed to suggest it was not just for show and there was something other than a completely willing team of participants. While Logan was studying the place and wondering if here was somewhere they really wanted to be, Cromwell continued talking.

"Of course," He said, "It's not really people they get to fight. It's strangers, wanderers, crazy people…" He paused and looked at the brothers with an intense gaze and a smug smile, "…Mutants."

Recognising the betrayal for what it was, Victor was the first to act, snarling as his claws grew instantly. Logan unsheathed his weapons but kept quiet, the deceit had not been such a surprise for him and had therefore not affected him as much as Victor. Yet there was no way that he was going to stop his brother from the murderous rage that he had no doubt would happen—and soon.

But before Victor could move to kill the treacherous Richard Cromwell, three shots fired, hitting the feral mutant in the head, every time. Logan whirled to see the new threat that came from behind in time to see another gun aimed at him and fired. It hit him in the forehead between the eyes, twice. He fell on the ground beside Victor's unconscious body.

Logan woke up exactly two minutes and forty-seven seconds before Victor. In the grand scheme of things, it probably wasn't a lot—in fact, it was probably completely insignificant in terms of eternity. But it was sufficient time for him to dwell over what had happened and seethe at Victor because of it. It was the cell that he would spend ten days in but he didn't know that yet; at that time he was trying to figure out the best way to get out of there quickly. Victor snorted and twitched as his body finished up healing his wounds. He groaned before turning onto his side from the undignified lump that he had been left in on the ground. Logan watched him regain his sense with a great amount of irritation. He was annoyed that they had been so easily tricked, so easily caught and so easily contained. He had already scanned the area and had found no means of escape so the only thing for him to do was brood.

Victor sat up and rubbed his head where he had been shot. He saw that Logan was sitting near him without a bother and silently cursed his slower healing abilities.

"So what's the deal?" He asked, squinting to rid himself of the headache caused by his incomplete rejuvenation.

Logan glanced sideways at him in a way that was less than inspiring. "No exists, no weak points. No way out."

"Any plan?"

Logan shrugged. "Wait for 'em to screw up, I s'pose."

Victor groaned. "Great, just what we need." He sat back against the wall and let his eyes close. "Hate this damn country." He muttered like a sulky child.

Logan grunted without agreeing or disagreeing with him. He left the unspoken 'I told you so' alone, since he knew that Victor was already painfully aware and he didn't know how long they'd be cooped up together. It wouldn't help them to start fighting now would it?

"I'm gettin' some shut eye, hit me if anythin' happens." Logan said as he huddled himself into a safe corner. Victor grunted and started scratching the cold stone floor with his nails. Logan gave him an agitated look before snuggling into himself and closing his eyes. That was the start of ten days of imprisonment and the hellish job of dealing with his brother.


Finally out of that damn cage and unleashed back into the real world, all hell broke lose by Victor and Logan's command. If the people who had captured them believed in pagan gods, they would have definitely thought they had been reborn in the bodies of the two raging mutants. The two brothers worked in perfect unison, slashing, ducking and killing in absolute harmony with each other's movements; working as if they were one, befitting any deity of war. Blood splattered the walls of the underground corridors and guts and other bodily matter slid down them by gravity's sway. Random limbs that had been brutally ripped or severed were strewn haphazardly from one end of each room to the next. Being creatures in control of their environment, Victor and Logan gave into the never ending nagging of their inner beasts and let them feast on the gore and destruction they left in their wake. Even though Logan hated using the clichéd phrase that his feral side's strength was intoxicating, he was not a poetic man and therefore could think of no better way to describe it. The whole experience, of fighting, of being one with the inner animal, was like being smacked into awareness or suddenly gaining sight after years of blindness. Everything became magnified and magnificent. Even the air shimmered with a kind of divine intelligence that his all too human mind could never fully comprehend. Yet his animal eyes could see as clear as day. And even knowing that there were aspects to this existence they could never understand, they became gods among men—purely from that knowledge. And that was not including their super strength, their indestructibleness and their inhuman speed. But it was obvious from the violence that these demi-gods were not the benevolent creatures one would hope for and instead more resembled the creatures from the depths of people's nightmares. Now though, this nightmare was no longer in their captors' heads. It had become real and as Logan and Victor sauntered down every hall, corridor or room, with their weapons at the ready, it was probably the last thing they saw.

The two mutants finally found what they were looking for as they made it to the last room in the subterranean structure. Again working in the efficient unit as always, Victor moved to kick the door in while Logan situated himself just behind him. The door broke under Victor's foot he moved away in a flash. Logan threw himself into the room, his claws out and ready for impaling. He jumped on someone who looked like a guard and buried his claws into his throat before using his already dying body as a springboard to get to the next victim. By that time Victor was in and was busy burying his fist in the man's gut.

It was over fairly quickly—as all battles always were—and soon the two feral mutants were cornering the cowering and cringing Richard Cromwell. They leered down at the man threateningly; he was going to die, there was no question about it and none of them had any doubt in their minds.

"We could make a deal, you know." He said, holding up his hands to show his sincerity, "We'd all be rich."

Victor smirked in dangerous amusement. "Oh?" He asked with an eyebrow raised, "How'd you figure that?"

"You guys could fight, and I could be your manager. You'd be undefeated."

Victor half turned to Logan. "Ya hear that, Jimmy? He could be our manager." He shrugged, "We'd be rich, too."

Logan tried to hide his grin and failed. "Bet he'd drop you after I started to make the big bucks."

Victor huffed, "No way you'd ever be better than me. What d'you think, Cromwell? Whose better, me or Jimmy?"

Richard Cromwell hesitated, looking between the two unyielding brothers. Neither of them were giving him any leeway and no matter what he chose to say, it would not turn out good for him. "I, uh… you're both as good, I think."

Victor's face split into a deadly smirk as he shook his head and tutted, "Now, now, that's not how you play this game, Cromwell. This is how it goes; I ask you a question, and you answer it the way I want you to answer. If you do, then you get to breathe for another few moments, but if you don't…" Victor left his sentence unfinished for dramatic effect and instead just chuckled threateningly.

Logan stepped up nearer to Victor and the RAF pilot and sneered. "And the same rules apply to my questions, Cromwell." He spit out the name as if it was dirty.

"I…I don't know…" He said, at loss for a way out.

Victor caught Logan's eye and gave him a look. Logan had seen this look before and raised his brow before he gave a very slight inclination of her head. Victor looked as if he had just been given a very valuable present. Once again, there was evidence of the understanding between the brothers. With the simple exchange of movements, translated to a conversation. In that moment, Victor had just asked Logan if he had permission to kill the man who was at their mercy. Logan had said he wouldn't be taking part, but Victor had better not spare the man. Victor's reaction was fairly self-explanatory.

Logan rubbed his face before moving back further into the room and finding a chair to sit down on while Victor got to work playing his 'game'.

The screams should have been haunting, heart-wrenching, but all Logan could think of was what he was going to eat as soon as they finished up there. Did that make him heartless? Probably. Did he care? Not even one bit.


"So, Sabertooth is your brother?"

Logan and Storm were sitting on the lawn of Xavier's School of Higher Learning. Storm had not pushed the other mutant for answers on the newly remembered parts of his past, but Logan figured it was time to tell—some of it at least. It was a nice day, warm for the time of year and the sun was glimmering in a cloudless sky. Some of the students were outside as well; busy talking or playing Frisbee or football.

Logan watched Rogue and Bobby Drake holding hands and chatting comfortably with each other. He was glad the two were getting on so well; he worried about Marie more than he'd ever admit and he knew if Victor Creed was around, he'd never hear the end of it. But Victor was not around; he was dead. The thought gave him a hollow feeling in his sternum, but he shook it off and ignored the niggled feeling in his chest that told him he was wrong. He had seen Sabertooth die, he'd watched him fall but something inside him had taken on the voice of his late brother and was telling him;

"It'd take more than that to put me down, Jimmy."

And Logan almost believed it too.

"Yeah, it seems so." Logan replied after taking a moment to think.

Storm thought about the information she had received from Logan. She wasn't sure why exactly he chose to tell her, knowing he preferred to keep things close to his chest and from listening to his memories, she understood why. But she was grateful all the same that he did.

"So what are you going to do?" Storm asked him carefully, slowly.

Logan shrugged and took out a cigar from his jacket before lighting it and sticking it between his teeth. "There's not much I can do." He said as he puffed a large amount of smoke into the air. Storm never minded the smell of cigars but had forbidden Logan to smoke in the house. Surprisingly enough, Logan hadn't put up a fight and had promised to restrict his smoking time to when he was outside. Storm suspected that he might be sneaking the odd cigar in his room or in the mornings before breakfast time, but she had no physical proof to back it up.

Storm studied the man beside her for a minute. He looked haggard and if she didn't know any better, she'd say he was in pain. Not physical pain, of course, his body wouldn't allow that, but mental anguish was clear from behind his eyes. She knew he was restless too; men like Logan didn't sit around and wait for things to happen. It just wasn't in their nature. He was the type that had to go out and get something if he wanted it. It was the animal in him that called out for him to take and use rather than wait and see, so Storm had a lot of sympathy for him. Usually, Logan could fix his problems; if someone threatened him, he could go out, track them down and make them pay. If he saw something he wanted then he could do the same. Logan was a man of action, but what was he to do when no matter what his actions were, they wouldn't fix his problems?

Storm sighed. "You should go, Logan." She suggested after mulling the thought over in her own head.

Logan raised en eyebrow in surprise. "Really? You serious?" He asked in surprise. He wasn't expecting Storm to figure out his reasons for telling her so easily. Looking back, he felt a little guilty he hadn't just come right out and said it, but Storm didn't look as if she was holding any grudges.

Storm nodded. "Yes. You should go and find the answers you're looking for. We can manage without you for a while, so it'll be fine. I'm sure Hank won't mind taking over your classes for a few weeks. He and I can alternate between picking up the slack."

It sounded like a dream come true but still Logan hesitated. "Are you sure you'll be alright? I mean, things still haven't fully settled with the after effects of Alcatraz."

Storm shook her head. "We'll be fine. The world knows we're no danger to it. We can look after ourselves you know, Logan."

"You're sure?" Logan asked rubbing his jaw.

Storm smiled and nodded. "Of course I am. Find your peace and then come back to us. Just be sure to stay in touch though, right?"

Logan shook his head. Even though Scott was meant to be the one to take over from Professor Xavier, Storm seemed born for the role. After the professor's death, Storm had picked up all the pieces and made the school as good as, if not better than, it was before. It might not have been the same since they lost so many of their numbers, but it was no worse really. They had had their ups and downs—as was the case with most new administrators in a job, but Logan truly believed that Storm handled herself with an amazing amount of grace and professionalism.

"Of course, I'll call check in every now and then to see how things are going. Be sure to contact me if any trouble comes up though, I'll be here as soon as I can."

Storm accepted Logan's promise with a nod. "When are you leaving, then?"

Logan glanced over to Rogue. "As soon as I say my goodbyes." He told her as he got to his feet. "I'll see you around." He said with a quick wave as he made his way over to the southern born mutant.


Okay so that's the next chapter, I hoped you liked it. Tell me what you think.