Writing Life, Death, and Everything In Between (an X-Men/Wolverine fanfic)

NO! Don't die on me yet, Rayquaza!!! ^^

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"Logan?...Logan?" Hank snapped his fingers in front of me and waved his hand in my eyes. I shook my head and blinked rapidly.
"How..." I couldn't speak much more than that. My throat went dry.
"Are you ok?" Hank asked, sitting me down at the desk where the computer sat. "I thought I lost you there...heh heh...." A sudden burst of rage and urgency shook me good, and I stood, the chair toppling over, and grabbed the collar of the Beast's lab coat.
"How?!" I said shrilly. "How?!?!?!" Hank seemed calm, but startled. The look in my golden-brown eyes must've shook the poor guy. It was almost equivilent to The Ghost Rider's Penetrating Stare, only without the smoke and mirrors. Hank looked away, back at the screen.
"Calm yourself, Logan," he said, clearing his throat. "Sit down. I'll show you." I breathed in and out slowly about five time before sitting down again.
"S...Sorry," I said almost forcefully.
"Don't worry about it," Hank replied. "I prepared myself for such a reaction." He chuckled. I shifted uneasily.
"My Weapon X file....Jesus freakin' Christ...." This was it. My Weapon X file. My life, summed up in a few pages. It was scary, when you think about it. They knew everything about me. Everything. Everything that I didn't know. And it was sitting right in front of me. I wanted to cry, but I sucked in as much air as my lungs could take and forced the emotion down with some struggle. Hank noticed, but he made no big deal about it. Good thing he did, too.
"Well, what I did was I was messing around witht he remaining files that were left after the incident at Alkali Lake, and then I stumbled upon the Weapon X files of the experiment victims..." He gave me this look like he was sorry or something for calling me that. I didn't mind. I was WAY beyond used to it. I nodded.
"Continue," I said.
"Ahem...yes well...anyway, I thought about you, so I went deeper into the files and sure enough, it popped up. Although, I'm still not sure this is you...."
"Why so?"
"It says your name is 'James Howlett'. But it looks like a spitting image." I stared at the picture. It was me. No doubt. And there was one thing I realized at that moment.

I don't think I look like a James.

***

More later! (you gonna be ok, Rayquaza? ^^)
 
Thanks. Oh and I keep changing my avvie cuz I can't decide which one I want yet. I'm weird like that.....PM and tell me which one you liked. ^^

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I sat there in Limbo for what seemed like a long time. For real, only about thirty seconds had passed. I was dazed. Hank shook me steadily evry now and then.
"Are you going to be ok?" he kept asking. My reply was always the same.
"I'm...not sure...." I really wasn't. My stomach churned. My head spun. It felt like I was strapped to the side of a Tilt-a-Whirl. I kept shaking my head and wiping sweat off my brow. I leaned closer.
"Can I...?" I hesitated.
"It's your life story..." He paused. "Are you sure you want to read this, Logan?" He put his hand on my back. I swallowed.
"I've been waiting for this for years. I want to know...I need to know this..." The sudden fit of trembling came in a wave and it took me by surprise. Hank put his arm around my shoulders. He squeezed me tight, easing the shaking.
"Alright," he said. I looked at him, my eyes holding a hazy amber shine that glittered in the florescent lighting.
"Ok," I replied hoarsly. It was barely above a whisper. "Thank you...for this..." The Beast stood.
"You'll be fine, Logan," he said before leaving. "Nothing in that file can change the person you are now." Then he left. I sat there, a picture from a few years ago staring back at me. Nothing in that file can change the person you are now.... I shuddered.
"Ok," I said stronger. "Logan Whatever, meet James Howlett."

Now, reading isn't something I would normally do to pass the time. I would like it much better to be bustin' heads in the Danger Room, but if this were a book, I'd read it over and over again. But sitting in front of a computer screen, reading tons and tons of pages for hours can really hurt your eyes. But I kept going. I had to. It was the desparity too know myself and the longing to understand my life that kept me going and kept me reading this file. A file. That's all it was. But it was so d@mn improtant that it made me feel almost terrible to be snooping around in it. But it was MINE. So I had every freakin' right to be doing this. EVERY. FREAKIN'. RIGHT.

And I'd be damned if that right was taken from me.

xXx

I'd started reading at around 12:30 pm. It was now 5:30 pm. I was finished. I was done. Just as I exitted the file, Jean walked in.
"Hey," she said. "You ok?"
"I was in the CIA," I said, surprised.
"Cool."
"Mm-hm."
An uncomfortable silence rose in the room. My heart was racing. My chest was heaving. The backs of my eyes were pushing acidic tears, but I forced them back.
"It's ok, Logan," she said, moving closer to me and putting a hand on my shoulder.
"It's James now, I guess," I said, my voice cracking. She sighed.
"You don't look like--"
"I know." She gave a semi-forced laugh, and I tried to do it, too, but that heavy, sinking feeling on my chest was getting to be too much.
"It's ok," she said, sitting next to me. "I know what you're fighting."
"Nosy," I pointed out. Jean smiled.
"I don't need to be a telepath to know," she said. "Your eyes give you away."
"Do they?"
"Yes. I can tell what you're feeling just by looking at them. A lot of people here notice that about you. Even some of the kids do. You give yourself away with those eyes..."
A long pause.
"Promise you won't tell anyone?" I whispered, moving closer to her.
"I promise," Jean replied, putting her arms around me. "Just let go, Logan. You can let go...."

And man, did I let go.

I don't think I'd ever cried that hard in my life. At first I tried to hold it back, but it was getting to be too much. I just let go of myself. I cried about my life, my memories, the things I knew now, my regrets, everything. Jean didn't say a word. She just sat there, rubbing my back. And that's all I wanted. It was all I needed. We sat tehre for what seemed like a long while before I calmed down. I sat back and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.
"Feel better?"
"Yes. Much better." It wasn't a lie, either.
"So, Scott told you about--" I held up my hands.
"I'm happy for you both...I just don't do weddings." Jean laughed.
"Ok, L...James...." she said, getting up. "I figured as much....but Scott wanted you to be his best man..."
"I'll think about it...." She smiled and walked out. I stood. I felt different. I felt...reborn. And in a good way. It was enough to make me want to start over.

I felt good, and that was something I hadn't felt for a long, LONG time.

*** END OF PART ONE***

Ok, there you go! Part Two comes out soon!!!!
 
PART TWO

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Dinner was a blur of colours and a mess of jumbled voices to me. My senses were on the fritz, and I kept shaking my head, like it would clear everything up. Rogue sat next to me, and she kept talking about how Bobby was going to take her to the movies and what not, and when she realized I wasn't paying attention, she snapped her fingers in front of me. I blinked, as if just waking up.
"What?" I asked, looking at her.
"What nothing! I've been talking to you, and you're just like in La La Land!" Her annoyance passed, and her face spelled worry for a minute. "You ok, suga'?"
"...um...yeah, I'll be ok...."
"Well, you tell me if anything is botherin' you, ok?"
"Yeah...thanks, Marie."
A pause.
"There it is," she said, sighing. "The name. You never use my name unless something important happened, or, like, when you're acting all serious and stuff."
"Really...."
"Yes really."
"Sorry." She looked at me, taken aback by my sudden apology.
"It's...ok, Logan." She looked back at her food, not really tasting what she was eating, I knew. As for me, I didn't even eat. I just sat there, thinking about what I'd read.

And then I fainted...and I didn't know why.
 
SOOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY for the delay. I've been SUPER INSANELY busy. I will try to post more ASAP I promise!!!

Silver
 
Ok. Sorry again. ^^"

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I woke up in my bed. It was late. Professor was sitting next to me in that wheel chair of his. I sat up.
"What happened to me?" I asked, almost dazed. He sighed.
"Well, you read most of your life's story, no?" he asked me, looking pretty serious. I nodded.
"Yeah," I said.
"Something in your mind, the dormant memories that you had, they were....awakening, so to speak," he said unsurely. I scratched my head.
"This ain't like some sorta magic mumbo jumbo crap, eh?" I asked. Professor looked at me.
"It all depends on what you call it, however," he continued. "it did cause you to faint. Your mind was retaining and regenerating to much information at once. You must have a terrible heacache right now, hm?"
"Killing me, yes," I replied, rubbing my forehead. I jerked my head to crack my neck and moaned. The movement seemed to make the pain worse.
"You should take some pills and get some rest tonight," the Professore delcared. He seemed, at the most, a tiny bit worried for me, and I could smell it on him. I flexed my fingers.
"Got any Excedrin?" I asked. "I'll be needing the strongest you've got. Knock me out cold." He chuckled. It felt stiff, the room. The heat was on, since winters in New York were supossed to be 'so very cold'. I'm Canadian. Don't talk to me about cold.
"Kinda stuffy in here, eh?" I asked. He nodded.
"Apparently, the children would much rather have the AC on, even in winter, hm?"
"It's only just starting to get cold. Not enought to make it snow yet."
"With Storm, knowing her, she'll make it so that we're in the pool on Christmas day." I smiled, not noticing that I hadn't done that in the longest time, and it made him smile, too. We sat in silence for a good chunk of ten minutes before he began to leave.
"Feel better, I'll get you some asprin," he said, opening the door. I didn't want him to leave, honestly. We hardly talked, and I wanted to, but...

"OH MY GOOOOOOD!!!"

We heard it from the living room. Rogue. I was in the hallway without a backwards glance and I sprinted down the hall.
"Kid? Kid you alright?" I called. I skid across the wood floor and made the carpet bunch while I ran through the house. I finally reached the living room. Bobby was sitting down, panting. He showed me the back of his head. Rogue was opposite him, also panting. And then there was Peter. Peter and I had gotten along really well throughout the years, and he was actually one of my best friends here. So what I saw was a bit disturbing.
"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME HAPPENED HERE?!!!" I yelled. Peter lay on the floor, unmoving and bleeding from his side. I slid across on my knees to his side and put my hand on his chest.
"Hey, take it easy, pal..." I said, patting him gently. He looked at me.
"W...Wolverine...."
"It's ok, Peter....just relax, ok?"
"O...k....comrade...." I looked at the other two frightened teens.
"What happened?" I asked. No answers from either of them. my eyes darted and focused on Rogue's. Her light green eyes were wide and wet. Mine were dark, deep, and concerned. I narrowed them at her.
"What. Happened." I said in a borderline whisper. When she still said nothing, I got agitated.
"I said what happened!!!!" I demanded, banging my fist on the floor. She flinched and shook her head, as if just waking up from a nightmare.
"W....We're not sure...." she stuttered. "We were just...sitting her...talking...a-and....then we all...."
"It was like we were someplace else...." Bobby piped up. I turned to him, then looked back at Peter.
"Ok Tin Man," I said. "Tough it out, buddy. I'll help you stand." He was bleeding pretty badly, and he could bleed all out if we didn't stitch it up. I stood and pulled Colossus up with what strength I could muster to yank such a weight off the floor. He seemed pretty shocked, which didn't help with his injury. He looked like he was panicking, like deer-and-headlights kinda thing. I helped him to the kitchen to get a dishrag and pad his wound while we made our way to the infirmary.
"Wolverine...." he panted. "They...came from....that place...."
"What are you talking about, Pete?" I whispered. "What...is it?"

The day just kept getting stranger, huh?

xXx

Till next time, guys!
 
Sorry for not posting in such a long time. I've been kinda busy. Sorry.

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We got Peter to the infirmary within a few minutes, and Jean stitched his gash. I sat next to him, watching it all. Thought raced through my head, but at the same time, I didn't think at all. Weird? You bet. And I felt Jean reading my thoughts, too. She was getting nosier....
"He'll be ok, Logan," she said when I asked her if he would be telepathically.
"I just want to know what happened," I said. "Rogue and Bobby said...."
"That's not nice."
"What? Reading my thoughts again?"
"Yeah. 'They're just some drugged up kids.' Come on, Logan."
I shrugged.
"Could be. But I doubt it now. Peter barely ever gets hit, let alone flicked , so how do you think this might've happened?"
We were silent for a while, side for the noises of the house (which I heard) and Pete's grunting every now and then from the stitches.
"Wolverine...." he said. I looked at him.
"Yeah, buddy. Could you tell me what happened?"
"They came...from the place...."
"What place?"
"It had.....metal walls.....soldiers.....in helemts....they had...."
"Soldiers? What kind?"
"Tall...male.....it was all big blur...."
I sat there for a minute, taking some of this in. Soldiers? In the house? How'd they get in and get out so fast? How'd they get a hit on Pete? Something was funny about this....
"Peter, you're all done," Jean said suddenly. "But don't move too much. Give them time to heal out." Peter nodded as we helped him sit up. He breathed a great sigh.
"Pete," I said. "Listen to me. You have to try to remember anything--"
"Let me read his mind, Logan," Jean said. I pressed my lips and nodded. Jean put her hands on Pete's head and she closed her eyes. I watched. My ears suddenly pirked up. My nose twitched, I looked around, and then there was nothing. Paranoia, I thought. I shook my head. But there it was again. The thing that made my ears pirk up and my nose twitch slightly. My eyes darted around the room. There was nothing. I stood. Jean did not notice. Nor did Peter. I closed my eyes and focused my senses. I smelt artificial nutrients, sterilized bandages and etcetra, and mostly the chrome metal tang-ish smell that I got down here. It was like sniffing a nickel. Kinda funny, made my nose itch....but that wasn't it.

Then what was it?

I hate guessing games.

xXx

Later.
 
Yeah yeah, you know the drill. Been busy. Lots of things going on, but I've posted more. ^^ Yay for me!

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I hate guessing games.

Jean broke with her mind-reading and looked at Peter, and then at me.
"What?" I asked, my nose beginning to itch real bad now. I rubbed it with the back of my hand.
"It was like he'd described it," Jean started skeptically. "Only....there were lots of these guys, Logan. Lots of them. Soldiers. Big guys. It was like the Nazi movement...." I sneezed.
"God bless you," Peter said. I nodded a thanks and let Jean continue.
"The thing that stuck out to me in his memory, though, were the six letters on the soldiers' helmets," Jeans said. I c0cked my head and sneezed again.
"What were...sniff...the letters?" I said, suddenly feeling nasal conjestion. I swallowed, and the metalicy-copper taste that I knew too well slithered down my throat.
"The letters," Jean continued, handing me a tissue. "were S-H-I-E-L-D. S.H.I.E.L.D. Ring a bell?" I raised my eyebrows.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.? As in the military ops?" I asked.
"Yes," Jean confirmed.
"I thought that I had seen something of the sort before...." Peter said abstractedly. I sneezed into the tissue again, but this time, the white was stained red. I blinked once, and then I swallowed. There it was. The taste. Blood.
"Hey, you ok?" Jean asked, startled.
"Um...yeah....just a nosebleed.....I guess..." I said, my voice muffled under the tissue that I held against my nose. Whatever I picked up before, I thought. It reacted with my sinuses negatively.....something's fishy here.... I swallowed again, and then I realized it.

The scent.

It's coming from....

"Peter?"
"Yes, comrade?"
"Do you smell that?"
I figured that if the scent was strong enough to make my nose bleed, then those with a lesser heightened scense of smell could surely pick it up. Right?
"I...I smell nothing," Peter said, sniffing the air. I turned to Jean. She shrugged. I tasted blood in my mouth again, and I spit it out over the sink. Something wasn't right. I wiped up my face and looked back at Colossus. It as definately him. No doubt.
"Peter, can I...." Oh God. Here I am, about to ask my friend if I can sniff him. What the hell is that?
"Can you what?" he asked. I sat next to him and looked him in the eye. And then I got it. I got what it was.

SWICK!

"Ouch!" Peter suddenly exclaimed. "What...was that?"
"A tracker....and a high rate gasser," I said bluntly. I reached my hand over to the lower waist of his side and gripped. Just as I thought.
"Logan, what are you...." Jean began. I yanked off the tracker, ripping some of his skin too. He hissed through his teeth and I held it up to show them.
"This thing has been tracking Peter. It must've been put on him once he went to 'that place', or whatever he called it. IT's giving off some undetected poison gas. Guess the S.H.I.E.L.D. guys didn't know that I've got a good nose here," I explained, looking at the thing. Jean tilted her head to one side.
"But why would they target Peter? And what's the S.H.I.E.L.D. want with us?" she asked. I shrugged.
"Don't know, but we better find out fast," I stated.
"Why?" Jean asked.
"Because," I said, holding the tracking device up. "This thing also has another component. It has a detonator inside it. Basically, it can blow up, on cue, at any given moment. I say we axe it."

And not to much surprise, they both nodded quickly in unison at me.

D@mn, it feels good to be right once and a while.

xXx
 
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