Disclaimer: The X-Men and Brotherhood do not belong to me, they're Marvel's.

Author's note: Well that took longer than expected.

This was supposed to be up yesterday. As you can see, that did not happen. I'm really struggling through school right now (it's like they want to kill us), so updating is a pain. But here it is!

Enjoy. Read. Review.

"Logan!"

The gruff man wiped his hand on his jeans and quickly stood up. The garage around him was in a semi-state of disarray, with miscellaneous tools thrown about. He looked down at his motorcycle with a mix of pride and annoyance. The repairs it needed after being in too limited of use were setting him back. If it had been working properly he could have avoided the coming situation, he would not have to see the hurt in her eyes when she figured out what he was up to.

He could have been gone by now, his initial thought of taking the Dysons' bike had come and gone. Logan couldn't bring himself to use it.

He did his best not to look suspicious as the mutant behind the voice came in.

"Logan, gawd Ah've been lookin' evahwhere for ya!" Rogue smiled for a second, and then her eyes fell to his motorcycle and the stuffed backpack beside it on the concrete floor. Her voice wavered at the end and her emerald eyes looked sadly at him.

Logan coughed. "Well, I was just fixin' up my bike. What's goin' on Rogue?"

"The professah wanted to talk to us…" She said slowly. "Julian and Ah got a visit from Clay Dune."

"Clay Dune?!" He growled. "What was she doing here?"

"Come on, Ah'll show ya." Rogue answered dully, waving her hand.

For the first few steps it looked like she was just going to let him walk through the door, but she whirled around suddenly and blocked the door frame with her arms.

Narrowing her eyes at him she contemplated how to tell him off. It was pretty obvious he was getting ready to leave, but she knew he would not tell her (maybe not ever) until it was too late. He raised a blue-black eyebrow at her and slowly and methodically crossed his arms, like he knew what she was going to say. His hands and clothes were smeared with grease here and there, the stubble on his face was longer than usual, and his blue eyes more of a stormy gray. All together he looked weathered down and beaten, like he just had a very bad fight with Sabretooth. As she looked at him she almost felt like not accusing him.

"Ya're leavin'… ain't ya?" She asked bluntly. Before he could even open his mouth she continued. "Don't lie ta me Logan. Ah can tell. Why?" Her voice was growing louder and a little more unstable with every word. "We- Ah just lost Benj… would ya really leave me here alone?"

He winced at her words as though they were spikes thrown into his torso. Again he found himself in a situation where words would work the best, and he was floundering at what to even say.

He reached out and grabbed her shoulders gently, avoiding the bare flesh exposed by her purple top, and softly forced her arms down so they were no longer blocking the doorframe.

"Rogue… yer never alone here. You've got Summers, and Jean, and half-pint, and the elf. Not to mention the prof, Beast, Storm, and the rest of the little hooligans."

Rogue shook her head. "But Ah need ya Logan. At least right now. Ah need someone solid who's not just gonna—" Her voice cracked and she hung her head.

"Shh." Logan whispered, drawing her in. "Yeah I'm leaving, but I promise… I'll come back. I just need my space right now."

Rogue buried her head in his shoulder and whispered. "If ya find him—"

"I'll bring 'em back, I'll bring them all back."

"Are you sure you are okay Julian?" Storm asked quietly.

The girl nodded silently. She, Storm, Beast, Xavier, and the students that didn't leave for Thanksgiving were in the professor's study waiting for the last of the arrivals to come in. Julian sat on the couch next to the hearth and observed everything around her blankly. Beside her sat Scott and Jean, who had not left for the holiday yet, while Colossus and Kurt chatted behind them. The slow crackle of the fire drew Julian in and gave her something to focus on instead on the chaos she had just joined.

Being an X-Man was complicated.

Storm and Beast glanced at each other from their opposite sides of the fireplace. An unspoken word went between the two of them and Beast tried to strike up a conversation with Julian again.

The door to the study opened with a dull creak and Rogue and Logan walked in.

"Alright Chuck, what's going on? Why was Clay Dune here?" Logan asked gruffly.

Xavier rotated his wheelchair to face the new arrivals. "Logan, Rogue please come in." As the two complied Kurt hoped over the back of the couch and plopped down sharply next to Julian, while Colossus merely rested his arms on the back of the couch and leaned forward slightly. The professor turned to Scott and Jean. "I know you two wanted to leave for your holidays, but I think this will be important enough to delay you shortly." He looked back at Logan as the man settled on the arm of the couch. "Honestly I don't have a clue on what's going on, Rogue called this meeting quite suddenly."

Logan raised an eyebrow and turned his head slowly to look at Rogue who stood frozen beside the couch, what little she had of color drained from her face. He scoffed. Rogue hadn't planned on having to explain everything, it was very obvious.

"Well uh…" Rogue muttered.

Charles chuckled. "Why don't you start from the top?"

Rogue sighed as everyone's heads turned to her. Grudgingly she walked up beside the professor.

"Julian and Ah were in the greenhouse and we got two surprise visitors—" Rogue started.

"Clay Dune?" Scott asked. His eyes narrowed behind his shades. "That girl, what does she want with us?"

"Wait, two?" Jean questioned, a puzzled look on her face. "Was it another Haven mutant?"

"No, it was a—." Rogue stopped herself. "Yes it was a Haven mutant!" She finished with an annoyed tone.

"Rogue…" Julian whispered hollowly. "Please?"

Rogue looked confused at Julian quickly and then nodded slightly. Julian was afraid Scott would attack her for dating who he considered the "enemy", and wanted Rogue to skirt as far around that fact as possible. She didn't realize he already knew.

"It was Ash, Ashley Wolfe." Rogue stated. "She didn't say much, well Ah mean Ash said nothin'… but Clay…" She recounted their conversation and pulled the gray spherical Haven communicator from her pocket. "Benj had a message for us." Before anyone could ask questions she pressed the button and Benj's voice came once again from the device.

"Hey Rogue… Listen, I… I know it seems like…" He sighed. "…Just listen. I'm working with the Haven mutants right now… at least until w-I get some things figured out. You need to get Xavier to stop looking for us. We're in good hands right now; plus there are bigger things to worry about.

"By now I'd imagine Magneto is already back to recruiting for the Brotherhood, heh, he tried to snag me didn't he? If you guys can get to any of his targets first, and I urge you to try, don't let them join him. I'm sure the professor can tell you why, we had ears at the memorial service for Leo. Magneto warned Xavier he was recruiting for the purpose of preparing for war."

"War Chuck?" Logan growled. "Why didn't you—"

"Quiet!" Rogue silenced him.

"The X-Men must block him whenever possible, I'd say start with the old Cerebro files. Somehow, I have a feeling that's where he's going as well.

"I have to say, the Haven is in a weak state right now, and they truly mean the X-Men no harm. But don't get in our way. I don't want to see you hurt, and I don't want to have to face you guys on the other side, Rogue. I—"

"That's enough." Another voice interrupted the recording.

Benj coughed in the recording and finished. "Talk to Lance. Convince him to tell you guys things. And… be careful."

The recording ended with a click.

Silence extended out into the group before Scott spoke up. "At least we know Benj is alive, but where do we start?"

Xavier rubbed his chin and sighed. "That's the hard part. If Magneto has gotten himself access to old Cerebro files he could have an army within the month."

"Well, then that would give us a great place to start, wouldn't it?" Beast suggested. "If he's looking in Cerebro, then why shouldn't we?"

"Good point." Xavier said. After a few seconds he had determined a plan. "Alright, here's what we will do: Storm, Beast, and I will look over who would be the most likely targets of his recruitments. Scott, Jean, I know you two want to leave for Thanksgiving, and you will, but on your way back I may have you check on a few mutants." He glanced around the group. "The rest of you should just enjoy your long weekend. I believe Logan had a Danger Room session planned as well."

"Nah, the kids need a break. I was just gonna do a run by myself." Logan shrugged. "But if ya want me to check out a kid let me know and I'll head out."

Rogue shot a suspicious glance at Logan. So now he was going to use that as an excuse to leave? Couldn't Xavier tell what he was up to?

"We'll check back with you on that Logan. As for right now, I think that's all we have. Let's go!"

The gruff man slung his pack over his shoulder and mounted his bike. He grabbed his helmet off the handle bars and put it on, snapping the visor down. His motorcycle sat just outside the garage of the Institute in the cool night air. The sky above was a deep navy blue, lightly studded with stars, and a light cover of gray clouds rolled by overhead. The moon shone dully in the night, a simple crescent in the sky.

Logan took a deep breath through his nose and then let out a low growl. His road trip was about to begin, and he had no clue where he was going. The thought of long nights in the open on his own lightened his heart and mind. It would be like old times, moving on without promise of a destination, but now he had somewhere to return.

Hearing Benj's message gave him new hope. The boy had slipped up during part of it, he'd almost said "we". Of course he could have been referring to Tyler, but something told Logan's instincts it was an allusion to Leo. If the runt was still out there, Logan was determined to find him along the way.

The teen's scent was fading from the area, but Logan still had a grasp on it. That and he still had a promise to fulfill to the boy.

He kicked the stand up on his motorcycle and started the engine, the purr filling the night's quiet stillness.

"So what, ya weren't gonna say good-bye?"

Wolverine turned suddenly, an involuntary snarl escaping his lips at his surprise. A dark figure stepped out of the shadows of the side of the garage and into the light cast by a light on the side of the garage doors. The shadows still cast on her face made it seem hollow. Rogue walked straight up to Logan and gritted her teeth. She was wearing leather pants, a plain purple T-shirt, black combat boots, and a long brown trench coat Logan recognized as either being the exact same or the identical twin of the coat she had worn when the X-Men were on the run immediately after the mutant exposure incident. She poked him in the chest with a gloved and narrowed her eyes.

"Ya were just gonna leave?!"

Logan's eyes softened and he took off his helmet before taking Rogue's hand in his own. "I know, I should have—"

"But ya didn't!" Rogue half-yelled, her voice strained. "Ya can't just—"

"Rogue I need to do this." He said gruffly, meeting her eyes with a sudden intensity. "I need time to clear my head, I can't even use the Danger Room right now, did you know that? It used to calm me, or at least let me work things out but now I can't even go in there!" He sighed. "It's like Leo…"

Rogue squeezed his hand. "Ah know." She looked down at his hands and then back to his eyes. "Let me come with ya."

He shook his head. "No."

"Come on Logan!"

"No. Yer not coming with."

"Ah'm not lettin' ya do this alone!"

"But that's exactly what I need to do Rogue. Do this alone. I need some space."

Rogue screwed her eyes shut, but did not say any more.

Logan placed his left hand on the side of her head and bent her head down. He kissed the top of her head and then ruffled her hair. She hugged him tightly for a few seconds and then stepped back from his motorcycle.

"See you soon Rogue." Logan said softly, placing his helmet back on and restarting his motorcycle.

Rogue nodded dimly.

"If ya find him Logan, bring 'im back."

He nodded, she'd known from the start just what he hoped to do.

Logan wasn't even sure where he was any more.

And he didn't care.

His bike whizzed past cars and continued down the long straight road. He reveled in the freedom of the open road. Only a few cars showed up every hour, and a few times not even that. By this point he was somewhere in Canada, the desire to see his home country again swayed his planned route.

The cool air sliced through his jacket as he continued on. It was his third day on the road, and his gas tank was getting low. Green scenery flew by as he pulled onto a side road leading to a small town in search of a gas station.

He slowed considerably as a semi-run down gas station came into sight. The gas tanks were well-taken care of, but the over hanger was rusting in several places. He pulled his bike alongside a tank and filled up his bike. He watched the numbers increase exponentially.

"Yikes, when did gas get to cost so much?" He grumbled as he swiped his card. He mounted his motorcycle, but decided before he left he should see what the place had for food. He started his bike up and parked it in a parking spot.

He looked up from putting down his kickstand to see a high-school aged kid sitting next to the doors of the gas station's store. The boy looked weak, he head bowed in between his raised knees and his arms resting limply on this knees as well. His dark brown hair was overgrown and shaggy, reaching his ears and falling into his shadowed eyes. He was obviously an older kid, there was faint stubble across his face. The clothes he was wearing were mostly ratty, his gray T-shirt was torn in several places, and his jeans frayed at the bottom, an old pair of black sneakers were on his feet, but the jacket he wore was in good shape, being a slick black wind-jacket with silver stripes running up his arms. On a thick cord around his neck was what looked like a black arrowhead, which dangled in front of his chest and swayed slightly in the breeze.

He looked up slowly as Logan got up and walked toward the door, his face hallow and his eyes set deep in his face. His eyes glinted silver as the sunlight hit them.

Logan walked inside the building, making a promise to himself to buy the kid something before he left.

The bell on the door rang as he walked in and the clerk, an older man with gray hair and round glasses, greeted him.

The interior was not very big. There was a counter with a cash register where the clerk stood, behind which were cigarettes and a few items of alcohol. There were a few aisles with anything typical one could expect to be in a gas station.

"Well good day sir, can I help you?"

"Yeah, can I use yer restroom?"

The clerk nodded. "Go ahead, oh and if you want we offer showers for a small price."

Logan raised an eyebrow, and then looked down at himself. There were a few leaves and several spots of dirt on his jacket, and his jeans were a bit filthy as well. No doubt he well-reflected his "out-on-the-road" trip.

He shrugged. "Eh, well why not? How much?"

"Do you plan on paying with American money?"

"That obvious?"

"Your bike has a US license plate."

Logan nodded. "I can pay with credit as well."

"Fifty-cents for soap, a dollar for half an hour of water." The clerk said, walking around from behind the counter and gesturing to a back hallway.

"A small price is right." Logan muttered.

"We don't get many customers here, but we like to be hospitable." The clerk responded.

The bell above the door dinged and the two men looked back at the door. The teen from outside walked in, rubbing the back of his head and shuffling his feet.

The clerk glanced back to Logan. "Come, I'll show you were the showers are." He looked back at the teen and held his hand up, a signal for him to wait.

Logan followed the clerk and watched him retrieve a bar of soap and a towel from a locked box. Questions sprung to his mind on the kid from outside.

"So that kid hang around often?"

The clerk sighed. "Yeah, Quinn, though most in the town call him the free-lifter. He's got a history of theft in the few short months he's been here, but he'd just trying to stay alive. This store's the only one that won't turn him away upon sight."

"Sounds like you know him."

"He's a good kid at heart, but he's suffering from a lot. He doesn't know who his parents are, and honestly I don't think he even knows where he is most of the time."

"Drugs?" Logan asked gruffly.

"No, I don't think so. He's got some memory issues, says he can't remember anything from before he got into town." The clerk said. "I'm afraid he lives in an abandoned barn on the very edge of town. As a mutant no one here will allow him to live within the main part of town."

Logan raised his eyebrow. "A mutant?"

"Hmmm, oh yes. He has to deal with a lot of persecution at times. I try to help when I can, but he's on his own most of the time."

"Kid's strong."

"Yeah." And with that, their conversation ended. The clerk handed Logan the towel and soap.

The X-Men nodded and went inside the room the clerk had pointed to.

The shower had been better than the man expected, and he came out grudgingly from the station's showers. He grabbed the extra set of clothes from his pack and threw them on before walking back out into the store.

The clerk was behind the counter once again, his chin dipping onto his chest as the man dozed.

Logan smirked and walked up to the counter, and slapped down his dollar fifty.

The clerk's head snapped up and he began apologizing. "Sorry sir, as I said before, we don't get many customers."

"Not a problem." Wolverine shrugged it off and glanced around the shop. He spotted the kid walking through one of the aisles. When the kid walked he did so stiffly, like there was something causing him pain. He was about to ask a question of the clerk when the kid spoke up.

"Stan, I know I went a little over my five dollar limit but—" He started, walking slowly up to the counter, and then the clerk interrupted.

"Don't worry about it Quinn, I'll cover it." The clerk, evidently Stan, replied.

Quinn smiled solemnly, his eyes now gray since he was out of the sunlight. He placed the few items he had collected on the counter and the clerk checked them out and put some cash from his own wallet in the register.

"You need anything else kid?" Logan asked.

Quinn looked suspiciously at the man and shook his head. "I can take care of myself." The teen scooped his items back up and headed out the door.

"Well thanks for the service." Logan grunted, waving a quick good-bye to the clerk and walking back outside.

Frowning, Logan took his cell phone out of his pack and flipped it open. Rogue had tried calling him a couple times, but he wasn't going to call her, less she bite his head off.

Logan dialed a number into his phone.

"Hello Logan." Charles Xavier's voice said over the phone.

"'Sup, Chuck?" The man replied with a smirk.

"Rogue's still not happy with you."

He sighed. "Of course she's not. But listen, there's a kid here—"

"A mutant? What is his name, I'll see if we have a Cerebro file on him."

"Quinn, don't know much about 'im, but I think he needs our help."

"How do you plan on getting him back? I'm not sure customs will like it if you just try to come back with a random minor."

Logan frowned and leaned against his bike. "How do you know I'm not in the US? You tracked my phone?"

There were a few moments of silence. "Well, yes. "

He snorted. "Alright, well I'll figure that out later."

Quinn shouldered the door open to the barn. Rays of light streamed down from holes in the roof, making the swirling dust glitter like falling gold. The interior had been rearranged into a sort of living space. There was a wooden bench on one side with a tattered blanket on it that served as a bed, and the old shelves along the walls were filled with all sorts of things.

He sighed as he walked in and set down the items he had gotten from the gas station on a half-rotted table. Slowly he pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. He stared at it with a mix of pain and satisfaction, separating a few of the bills and spreading them out flat on the table top.

He laid his hands flat on the wood to either side of the flattened dollar bills, set his feet at shoulder length, hung his head and sighed.

"What am I doing?" He whispered, his voice was soft and raspy. He shook his head and screwed his eyes shut. Letting out an angry roar he flung the table upside down. The table crashed to the ground and the weathered and rotting wood splintered.

Quinn grasped his head, nearly pulling his hair out, and continued to yell. Stumbling back his back touched the wall of the barn, from there he slid down to the ground slowly. With a sob he grew silent.

A sudden banging on the door of the barn made the boy sit upright with fright. He tried to scurry up but the person at the door shoved the worn wood away and walked in.

It was a tall and burly man with rough black hair on his hear and chin, and large rather meaty hands. He barged in and stomped up to the boy, who continued to try to scurry back.

"Well boy, you've done it now."

Quinn managed to scramble on top of the wooden bench that served as his bed and then dive behind it. The man knocked it aside and made a grab for the teen. Although he tried to avoid his grasp, Quinn was caught and the large man hauled him up off the ground with ease. He flailed like mad, but the man had a firm grip on the back of his jacket.

"Boy. You've got sticky fingers."

"I—"

"Shut it." The man growled, shaking him.

The jacket on his back slipped looser, and Quinn's eyes widened with an idea. Suddenly he flung himself forward and both his black jacket and T-shirt ripped. With a muffled thud he fell to the ground.

"Why you little!" The man kicked out and the teen rolled onto his back.

Quinn's eyes widened, the sun reflecting on them making them like little pools of mercury, as the cool obsidian arrowhead thudded against his skin. The second it settled below his collarbone the black obsidian sheen spread to his skin out from the arrowhead.

"What the—?" He backed up quickly as the teen's appearance altered.

The black sheen spread across his entire skin, encasing him in living rock. His measly muscles grew, and his shoulders widened slightly. Once the transformation was done Quinn glanced down at his hands, now completely black, and he glanced up at the man and glared.

"What a mistake." He muttered, jumping up and at the man, crashing through the barn wall.

The man recovered quickly and grabbed Quinn by the back of his neck and slammed him into the ground. The man knelt down close and growled in the teen's ear as he shoved his face into the dirt.

"You just never learn. Learn your place scum."

Quinn spat out dirt and grit his teeth. He struggled from under the man but was unable to escape.

"I'm sorry, I'll give the money back!" He shouted. "Just lemme up!"

"Not this time punk. I'm gonna make sure you learn your lesson, mutant or not!" The man emphasized his point by slamming the boy's head in the ground again.

He brought his other fist back and was about to bring it down when a sudden noise stopped him.

Shhink.

"Alright bub, I'll give you three seconds to get off the kid..."

The man turned his head slowly to see Wolverine behind him with his claws on his right hand extended just behind his head.

"…or I see just how thick yer skull is."

The man stood up shakily and backed away slowly. "You mutants are all the same."

Logan chuckled. "Yeah, we tend to look after our own and hate assholes like you."

The man narrowed his eyes at Logan, but he could tell when he was beat. "You take that kid out of here then, 'cuz if I see him I'm gonna have to teach him again."

Logan extended his claws again and the man turned and ran.

Shaking his head the elder mutant knelt beside the younger. "You okay, kid?"

Quinn accepted the help up and stood. He simply nodded before brushing himself off. "You didn't have to help. I can take a punch."

"Doesn't mean you should have to." Logan replied. The teen stared at him blankly, so he sighed. Retracting his claws, he held out his hand.

"Logan."

"Quinn."

"There!"

Logan looked to where the kid was pointing. The two were now traveling on his motorcycle through what wilderness they could find. Quinn had gestured to a rocky land structure that was surrounded by trees.

With a nod Logan turned off the road and steered the bike into the area suggested.

The pair didn't talk much as they set up a sort of camp for the night. Logan had given his leather jacket to Quinn, since his shirt was shredded by his attacker. Within an hour the two had set up a fire and laid out Logan's sleeping roll and Quinn's blanket.

Logan grabbed what food he had from his pack and tossed a bread roll to the teen. Quinn caught it with ease and leaned back against the rock behind him. He tore into the food with eagerness.

After he finished he looked up at Logan. "Thanks… I guess. So what was this Xavier Institute you were talking about?"

"It's a place where mutants can learn to use their powers." The older mutant replied. "It's been my home for a while."

Quinn nodded and fingered the leather cord around his neck.

"So how do those powers of yers work?"

The teen shrugged. "When obsidian touches my skin I get that appearance where I'm pretty much solid rock." He held the cord out. "I don't really know where it came from, but it comes in handy."

"Stan said you got memory problems, huh?"

He narrowed his eyes and stared into the fire. His past wasn't something he liked to talk about (mostly because he couldn't remember anything before a certain point).

"I have a perfect photographic memory." He muttered, whipping his hair out of his eyes.

Wolverine frowned. "Then why—"

"I can't remember anything before five months ago, okay?!" He shouted, standing up suddenly and flinging his hands down. "I wake up one morning under some trees and all I got is this obsidian arrowhead, a gray jumpsuit, and these…" He pulled a chain out of his pocket and held it up. The firelight hit it and glinted. Two dog tags hung on the chain.

Logan started. "You seriously can't remember anything?"

"Flashes sometimes…" Quinn muttered, sitting back down. "…this Charles Xavier… do you think he could… I dunno, help?"

"Probably."

The two fell quiet and they took in the silence of the landscape. Crickets chirped in the cool air, followed by the rustle of leaves as a breeze swept by.

Quinn took a deep breath as he stared up at the stars.

Logan folded his arms behind his head and laid down on his bed roll. He started to close his eyes when Quinn's voice interrupted.

"The X-Men… that's the same group who just saved those policemen in Bayville, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" Logan grumbled. "I'm lookin' for my teammate who disappeared."

"…Let's find him."

Groaning, Quinn sat up from his position on the ground. It was early morning and the sun was just reaching the sky as a full orb. He rubbed his hands together, trying to bring some warmth back into them. The night had been somewhat favorable, but being early December it got rather cold at night. Stretching his arms above his head he looked around.

The man Logan was still asleep on his bed roll on the other side of the now dead fire. He still wasn't sure what to make of him, but the fact he didn't ask too many questions gave him a positive opinion of him.

"Well good morning."

Quinn jumped and spun around. On a rock nearby was a blue-skinned woman. His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head, because as far as he knew he'd had very few interactions with other mutants.

The second after she spoke Logan whirled up out of his sleeping position and still half-asleep unsheathed his claws with a snarl. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes he stared at Mystique. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Mystique crossed her legs and waved her hand absent-mindedly. "Oh, just a little recruiting for the Brotherhood cause."

Logan shook his head and blinked bleary-eyed. "Get out, now."

"Now, now Wolverine. Shouldn't the boy get to hear both sides?" She asked in an anything but innocent tone. "Doesn't he want to know what happened to his parents?"

"My p-parents?" Quinn sat up straighter and leaned closer to the new arrival, his ears practically perking up.

"Don't listen to her Quinn, she's just trying to get to you." Logan warned.

Mystique smirked. "He doesn't even know his last name Logan. How can you possibly hope to help him? By teaching him to fight robotic simulations in a metal room?" She laughed scornfully. "No, he wants something practical, don't you Quinn Leigh?"

The teen blinked. The last name she used hit him hard. "That's my name…" He muttered, his mind beginning to open. "How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot about you my young Obsidian. Would you like to learn?" Mystique crooned. She stood slowly and extended a hand down to the teen.

Quinn stared dumbfound at her hand.

Logan stood as well, retracting his claws, and raised his hands palms out. "Listen to me Quinn, whatever she promises she can't, she won't deliver on."

"Do you want to risk never knowing what happened to you, Quinn?" The woman asked, her eyes not leaving the teen's face. "How do you know that Xavier can help you? I am proof of your lost knowledge. I can help you."

Quinn looked sorrowfully back at Logan before taking Mystique's hand.

"No!"

"Sorry Logan…" Quinn muttered.

The man hesitated in walking forward, and a sharp sudden pain to the back of his head stopped him in his tracks. He fell forward dazed.

When he got back up, Quinn and Mystique were gone.

The Brotherhood Boarding House

Quinn looked in the mirror and fingered his hair. He twirled a piece through his fingers before looking back down at the electric razor on the sink's counter. He picked it up before he could change his mind and turned it on.

When he was done he looked in the mirror again. His hair was now buzzed on the sides of his head, while being a little longer on top. With his unruly hair now gone and his stubble trimmed away his features were well defined. Hard steely eyes looked back at him in the mirror under arching eyebrows, his cheekbones stood out from his face due to mere malnourishment, casting shadows across his cheeks that made his face hollow, and his ears laid close to his head. There was a small scar that went through his left eyebrow, leaving a small part bald.

He gripped the counter and leaned closer into the mirror and examined himself. He traced a scar on his neck down to his chest and frowned.

How had that happened?

The vein on his forehead stood out as he gritted his teeth, trying to hold in a yell. Something in his subconscious made him grab his obsidian arrowhead in his hand. His body turned to the hard shiny stone and he roared, slamming his fist into the mirror.

Glass shards exploded outward, shattering the air around him.

Alright let me know what you thought? And thanks for being patient with me guys. I know how it is to wait on stories, especially when someone (me) decides to leave their readers in constant suspense (man, I'm just awful. If I was reading this and had no idea what was going to happen next I would loose my mind, so you guys are GREAT.)

Oh, and if you're wondering on when I'm gonna update HC: Origins, here's the plan:

Once I intro in all these new Brotherhood characters the Haven storyline shall continue (WHAHAHA)

At which point in time I will hopefully be on winter break and I can fix up HC: Origins.

I'm gonna take down a few chapters and re-put them up as well as finish with the last four (4? yeah, 4.) characters. Don't worry, it's mostly just Cloak's chapter I gotta do some work on. The idea wasn't fully fleshed out when I wrote it and I want to fix that. And there were a few typos in Portia's chap I must fix.

Stick around! Should be intro-ing an empath and a somewhat necromancer next time, but we'll see :D