House couldn't stop sneaking glimpses at Logan. Or, more precisely, Logan's arms. They were exposed by his tank top; and what he had done would only be possible if his arm had been cast. Even at that, it would only have been half as bad. He'd only used an arm to hurt the guy—not a crowbar! But this was one of the times House kept to himself. Neither of them were particularly chatty. And while House didn't know Logan well enough to respect him, he definitely knew enough to fear him.

Fear... The concept was relatively new to him.

And Logan drove, enjoying but not quite understanding the silence. Shouldn't House be pestering him? Especially after what he saw him do. But for some reason he ignored him completely. That was a first. Driving past the police station, Logan happened to glimpse the flag at half mast; and after a slight hesitation he reached over and flicked on the radio, catching the tail end of the report.

"...the ongoing investigation since Friday. Of the eight missing police officers, six of them are parents."

"It's so hard," a teenage boy said. "Makes me want to become a policeman, just to find out what happened to my dad."

"The constable tells CBC his officers were on a case the night they went missing. It's being regarded as suspicious activity, and the residents are being detained until the nation is brought to justice."

Driving straight through the intersection, Logan took an unexpected turn into a parking lot, only to rock up over the sidewalk and drive through the yard. The front of his vehicle knocked over a sign that all of his tires missed. Then his car slammed onto the road and he began to accelerate. Prying one hand off the dashboard and one hand off the edge of his seat, House looked over at the dashboard. The speed dial was almost maxed out. The scenery was a blur.

A snarling breath got his attention, and he looked up at Logan's intense scowl. Over the roar of the engine, he shouted, "You don't need to worry, but you do need to slow down!"

"I'm not worried."

"I am! This isn't how I want to die!"

"She can take care of herself! So will you stop screaming?"

"You're clearly worried about her! It's understandable!"

Suddenly Logan's claws came bursting out of his fists. House lurched away, slamming into the door.

"Shit," Logan growled, as he listened to House patting blindly around for the door handle. He looked over at his passenger, who was staring at the flashing adamantium spikes in horror. He looked back at the road, retracted his claws, and began to drastically decelerate. "Look, you're not going to survive a tuck-and-roll. But if that's how you want to kill yourself, it might help to unbuckle."

House was unresponsive, continuing to stare at him. Finally, his eyes moved to Logan's knuckles, where he definitely remembered seeing the spikes emerge. But even as fresh blood dribbled down his arms, there were no exit wounds.

He'd been wrong... This wasn't understandable. Incapable of speech, House fell back against his seat, trying to ignore the orthostatic hypotension. It was just a little head rush. He was fine. He could breathe past it...he just had to breathe.

"Look, this is one of the things we couldn't talk about," Logan said. He looked over at House to try and coerce him into agreeing, but instead saw his eyes flutter before he went limp in the seat.

Logan huffed a sigh and stopped at the red light, sparing his passenger another glance. "Had to be a grandpa," he muttered, and continued on down the road, pulling over at the side. He pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed Kayla.

"Hello?" she asked.

Logan knew she had caller ID. "Are there cops there?"

"Yeah, a whole bunch."

"Are they expecting me?"

"Yeah."

"No phone calls," a second voice said, before the line disconnected. Logan pocketed his phone, then looked over at his passenger. "Good idea, Officer," he muttered, and confiscated House's phone. He sat there in silence, rubbing his hand and feeling his empty ring finger, while staring at the reflection of his dog tags; until he heard a slight rustle of fabric. He turned his head and locked eyes with House, who immediately froze.

He said nothing.

Logan sighed softly and finally said, "I'm a mutant. And when we get up to the house, Kayla's going to make you forget all this. Do you have any questions?"

House returned his eyes to the road, but still wouldn't speak. He was still in shock; his mind in denial.

"Alright, well, let me know if you have a heart attack."

He started the car and pulled away from the curb. House sat in silence, as his mind scrambled to solve the puzzle. A mutant... He swung his wide eyes to Logan. "And her? Is she a mutant, too?"

"How do you think she's going to make you forget?"

"Well, I never did get to see her bathing suit."

"Yeah, and you never will. But I should warn you. You will see a lot of cops."

"At your place? Why are they at your place?" House asked, and in the silence he thought back to the broadcast. "You killed them."

Now Logan said nothing.

"Listen. Uh, if you die, I promise I'll take really good care of her."

"I've killed a lot of men, Nancy. Stop angling to be one of them."

"Well—I don't want to forget. It's my head! Why is she messing with my head?"

"She's done it before. To you, and to Chase and Cameron. It's a painless procedure, and it's best for everyone."

"Wait, why did she do it before?"

"You knew too much." Logan shrugged, briefly opening his fists. "You're a damn good diagnostician, I'll give you that."

"I know I am," House said simply. "I have a degree saying just that. I have fan clubs. The person I mentored replaced the dean of medicine, and I've received more standing ovations than all of my bosses put together."

Logan tilted his head. "Well, guess you're not too horrified and repulsed to pat yourself on the back."

"Why would I be repulsed?" House said, as he pulled open the glove box. Seeing the Kleenex stashed there, he grabbed some and began collecting Logan's blood. "This is awesome. Finally, a test I'm excited to run!"

"You're not testing my blood. You're going to forget."

"Don't you think I should at least get a vote?"

"You do have a vote. But it's two against one."

House sighed, but began stuffing the tissue back into the Kleenex box, ignoring Logan's disgust. "Fine. Fine, I accept this obtrusive movement to tamper with my brain and destroy my memories, collateral damage regardless. But just because I have to forget, doesn't mean I have to forget right away."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I want to understand this! I want...I want to see the claws again."

"What?"

"Yeah, take 'em out! Go ahead," he urged, when Logan suppressed a smile.

Logan slowly extracted his claws, and House unbuckled, scooching closer. "Hey, you know what, you should really wear your seatbelt."

"I just want a closer look."

Logan's eyes flitted down as House touched his claws. "I think you're close enough," he muttered, and House sat back in his seat and reached for his buckle.

"Sorry." House eyed his claws, until they slowly disappeared inside his fists. "Does it hurt?"

"Every time."

House was quiet then, and Logan drove in peace. Until he looked over and saw the scowl on his face. "What is it?" he asked. He honestly expected House to demand his phone back, or point out a soldier in camouflage.

What he said was much, much worse.

"You said Kayla made Chase forget, but..." House gave a subtle shake of his head. "He remembers."

Logan hit the brakes, and they were pulled forward by the sudden force. "What the hell do you mean?"

"He said he kept seeing a monster with claws."

Logan dug out House's phone, flipping it open and figuring it out, all the while looking perplexed. He got into the contact list—and then hesitated, finally snapping the phone shut.

"You know, the phone works better if you use it."

"I can't do it on my own. I need Kayla for this." He began pocketing House's phone.

"Hey—that's mine. Can I have it back?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Only the boring ones," House said, and watched as Logan continued to drive. "You realize there's nothing stopping me once I get past the border."

"Yeah, actually, there is."

"Really? What?"

Logan didn't look at him as he continued driving; but his answer was simple and non-negotiable.

"A monster."