He had already found his boxers and his jeans in the tiny corridor leading to the bedroom,and he was bending down to pick up his shirt on the living room floor when he noticed the coffee table had gotten knocked over at some point and scattered the file Ruby gave him all over the carpet.It was seeing the photos strewn at his feet while he was picking up his shirt that it hit him.

But what the hell did it mean?

He let the shirt fall back onto the carpet as he scanned the photos.Something looked familiar.What?

He kept staring at them,willing the feeling to come back,but it didn't.He was just an idiot standing here looking at fallen photos of bodies scattered at his feet.

Bodies scattered at his feet...

...he was high above,looking down at bodies scattered below...

"Logan?"Srina said behind him,shattering whatever dim memory was starting to form.

He didn't bother to look at her,although the sense of rage that overcame was immediate and toxic. "Shh,"he hissed."I almost had something!"

But what he almost had seemed extremely vague and empty.He had a hint of a feeling,a fragment of a ghost,and it all added up,to steal a British phrase,to bugger all."Shit,"he spat,kicking at a photo that just barely skidded along the carpet.

"I'm sorry,"she said,although she didn't venture further into the room."What did you think you had?"

He shook his head,disgusted with her,with himself,with his unreliable piece of shit mind."I thought I remembered looking down at bodies from a height,but that certainly narrows things the fuck down, doesn't it?"

She finally came out into the living room,tightening the sash on her black silk kimono,an article of clothing that made him inexplicably unnerved.Maybe it made him wonder if Mariko ever wore one of those.He really had no idea,but it seemed like an unfortunate choice of clothing."High place?How high?"

He looked back at her,still irate but very curious."What?What do you know?"

Her violet eyes took in the photos strewn all over her floor,and she grimaced at what she saw.He was getting the definite impression she didn't like violence."Nothing really.But once I remember seeing you on top of this building,on the roof.I don't know how you got up there,unless you used those claws of yours to climb it somehow."

"What building,where?"He asked,surprised and suspicious that she would tell him anything after stalling for so long.He really didn't know if he dared trust her now,but what other choice did he have?

"It was the abandoned cannery,down near the docks.I doubt the building's still standing,though;it was condemned even then."

"Can you take me there?"He asked,grabbing up his shirt from the floor.

She looked surprised,but nodded all the same."Yeah,sure.But whatever was there must be long gone by now."

I know,"he agreed,pulling the t-shirt on over his head."But I have to see it."

He did,and he didn't know why.It was doubtful he'd remember anything more,but if he didn't it would haunt him the rest of his days.Just like everything else.

**

Somewhere over Canada

"-you managed to convince yourself,but I don't think you can manage me,"Bob sang chirpily,sounding like a voluntarily caged bird who was absolutely thrilled to have a seed cup and a perch to sit on.

She looked away,pretending to study the control panels in the co-pilot's seat,but she did smile to herself. He was extremely odd man,and she couldn't say she necessarily trusted him,but she never knew anyone who seemed so happy to just be alive,no matter the circumstances.It was almost infectious. But a glance at the GPS readout brought something to her attention."We're over the Canadian Rockies," she said, interrupting his song.

He didn't mind.Bob didn't seem to mind much,including men sleeping with his purported girlfriend. "Yeah,but not yet where we wanna be."

"Where do we want to be?"

"Changan Junction."

She paused,waiting to see if there was more,or if she had heard him wrong."Come again?"

"It's the last sizable town before Alkali Lake.It's at the mouth of the only mountain pass accessible at this time of year.And all but a couple of weeks out of the year,in fact."

"You've done your homework.I'm impressed."

"Don't be.It was part of Logan's memories that I was able to recall.The bar there is called The Golden Seal,and he was banned for life for fighting,but the owner reconsidered after he stopped a robbery in progress."

She stared at him,wondering if he was joking.He engaged the auto-pilot and turned to look at her with a charming,thousand watt smile.Some people perspired;Bob simply exuded charisma."Nah,it's true.Logan smelled the cordite,booze,and desperation on the guys,and figured they were trouble.He was gonna let it go,but as he reached his truck,he heard the shouting,a gunshot and a woman scream,and,as he snarled at the time,"Ah shit".He coulda walked away if he hadn't heard it,but he did,and he felt a certain obligation to go break some skulls,especially since it wouldn't take him more than a minute anyways.Which turned out to be about right."

She had to admit she was surprised."I didn't think Logan was really the type for that kind of thing.When did this happen?"

He had to think about it for a moment,and gazed out the windscreen at the cottony sea of clouds scudding just beneath them.The sun had turned their soft peaks golden,and she wasn't sure had ever seen a lovelier sight,even if it was skimming by so fast she could focus on any of it.Finally,Bob said,"It wasn't long after he woke up in the snow,so...fourteen years ago maybe?"

Right to the very limit of Logan's current crop of memories.But one thing he said she didn't get."Woke up in the snow?"

"Yeah,after Alkali went ka-blooey."He then gave her a sidelong glance,his unearthly eyes almost sparkling with an emotion she didn't dare interpret."Ah,you didn't know that."

"He remembers being at the base?"

"No.He remembers waking up in a snowdrift among the ruins of something.Only in retrospect did he realize it might have been an army compound or something like it,but he also thought it may have been a prison,considering how he felt about everything."

"What do you mean?"

"Well,in spite of wakin' up at a site of devastation,being buck naked and so fucking cold his dogtags had frozen to his skin-lucky he has that healin' thing,or he'd have been a corpsicle in more ways than one-his first overwhelming urge was to get the fuck out of Dodge,right quick,as they'd be coming for him,and if they blamed this on him things might be ten thousand times worse."

"They?Who was 'they'?"She thought she was coping remarkably well since her mind kept getting stuck on the concept and possible image of a naked Logan.But the idea that it was so cold his dog tags actually stuck to his skin (well,that meant Logan was immune to frostbite-no real shock there)took the bloom off the rose a bit.Poor man.

Bob shrugged."He didn't know.It was just a 'they' that evoked an animal sort of panic.Considering what they did to him,I don't blame him."

She couldn't either."Did he destroy the base?"

Bob shook his head."He doesn't know.He'll probably never know,considering the jostling his brain got."

Sometimes having a conversation with Bob was about as fun as punching yourself in the face.""Huh?"

"Well,he was in the thick of it,wasn't he?"He glanced at her,and she continued to stare at him,waiting for more."Think about it,Jean.Most likely,inside the base,he was wearing clothes-well,I'm guessin'-so the fact that he found himself outside,sometime after the explosion,nude and the only living thing in sight,that would indicate he was probably in the base when it went boom."

She finally started following his logic (but did he have to keep bringing up Logan nude?)."His clothes were blown or burnt off."

"Along with his skin,hair,and probably some muscular tissue,although there's no way to confirm that,is there?And his brain probably got a pretty good rattlin' inside that stainless steel cranium of his."

The idea was horrific and revolting,but she was a doctor.She knew if Logan was indeed inside a building that exploded,the shockwave alone might strip flesh from his bones,even if it was a 'clean' (no fireball) blast."Oh my god,"she gasped,now trying to banish the image of Logan as a living anatomical model of the human circulatory system out of her head."Could even he survive that?"

Bob grimaced sympathetically."Sadly,yeah,I think he could.I think you could probably pare most of him away and he'd still keep going.I'd like to blame it on will alone-and believe me,that's a lot of it-but he's really just a slave to his biology.His body wants to stay alive,and will,by any means necessary.I really think you'd have to strap two tons of Semtex to his body and blast him to his constituent atoms if you wanted to kill him."He then grinned humorously. "He's like the liquid metal Terminator,ain't he?"

She scowled at him,not seeing the humor in that."That's not funny."

"Logan would think so.In a dark humored sort of way."It was then an instrument started bleeping:a location tracker."Aha,"Bob exclaimed,disabling the auto-pilot and taking the controls once more."Comin' up on Clangan Junction.Hope you brought a parka."

He took the jet into a rather steep dive that pushed her back in her seat,but he seemed to be enjoying flying the plane like it was a predatory bird swooping in for the kill."How could you do it,how could you even try,"Bob sang,even as her ears popped from the sudden elevation shift.The ground was as white as the clouds had been,giving her a brief but curious sense of vertigo."When you were born on the water,and raised up in the sky."

"We have to shed some speed here or we're going to crash,"she said,shouting inadvertently.Well,her ears were still plugged,and he was singing rather boisterously.Everything about him was boisterous.But she had to admit he had a very nice singing voice,even if the songs he chose to sing were peculiar.

"Don't worry,the snow will cushion us."

She stared at him in slack jawed shock,but when he looked at her he grinned roguishly,and she knew he had been kidding."That wasn't funny."

"Oh,give over,"he teased."That was fuckin' hilarious."

He brought them in dangerously low over the snowy valleys surrounding the tiny pit stop of a mountain town,towering pines and icy outcroppings finally giving some variation to the white on white landscape as he looped around,shedding speed,and seemed to be trying to settle on a landing spot close to town. "You know the jet's going to stick out,no matter what,"she said,wondering if that had anything to do with his indecision.

"Oh,no it won't,"he replied in a casual,dismissive manner."I'll throw a cloaking spell on it.Nobody'll see it, even if they walk right into it."

"You cast spells now."

"Well,only a couple.I never had the patience for all the arcana,not like Ammy or her mother.The Spellcaster's Union in Melbourne made me an honorary wizard though.I thought that was real nice."

She still couldn't decide if he was pulling her leg or not."Spellcasters have a union?"

He nodded,getting a distracted look on his face as he finally decided to land the jet."Of course.If there weren't set rules,people might take advantage of them.You have to set your boundaries.I mean,I think it'd be a good idea if you mutants got around to that someday,at least the ones who don't want to be anonymous or kill people."

"Now I know you're joking."

"Nope,I'm serious.'Course,it'll help a lot when ordinary people stop hatin' you."

She grunted,a combination of a swallowed laugh and a sarcastic snort.Yes,it would help a lot.Of course, what Scott had just done in Maine-well,what they made him do-was just going to cause an upsurge in mutant hatred and fear.And wasn't that the entire point of that otherwise pointless slaughter?

It felt like there was a cold stone in her stomach,weighing it done,making her almost queasy with fear and anger.She didn't care what Bob said,they had hurt Scott,and they were going to pay for that.

(Like they had paid for hurting Logan?)

Bob brought the jet down with surprising delicacy;it seemed to glide softly on the snow before settling to a gentle stop.As he started shutting down systems,he said,"Thank me for flying Me Airlines.If I would check around my seat for any items I may have brought with me,I would appreciate it,and I hope I enjoyed flying Me."

She couldn't help it-she laughed.She hated to laugh too,because of everything that was going on."Are you ever serious?"She asked,as she undid her seat harness and moved to the back of the jet.There she did have a quilted blue parka waiting for her,tested for complete heat retention down to ten degrees below zero (if she could trust the company selling these expensive coats).Bob's only concession to the temperature was a green cable knit sweater,a leather bomber jacket lined with fleece,and hiking boots as opposed to biker boots.Oh,and mirrored polarized sunglasses,the kind skiers wore on the slopes,which he donned the instant he got out of his seat.

"Logan wouldn't wear those,"she pointed out,shrugging on her heavy parka and zipping it up.

"Nobody'll see 'em,"he said with utmost confidence.He then grabbed his jacket and slipped it on quickly, as if he was used to getting dressed in a hurry.She didn't even want to know why that might be.

She suddenly realized she was missing something,and started patting the large pockets of the coat."What is it?"Bob asked.

"My gloves.Do you see them?"During his wild flying,they'd probably fallen under one of the seats.

"You don't need them."

"What do you mean?Of course I-"

"No,you don't,"Bob said,in that queerly assured voice of his that sent a chill down her spine."Your hands won't freeze;they'll be warm out there.You'll be fine."

Her hands did feel warmer now,her formerly cold fingertips almost tingling with heat,and she scowled at him."You did something to me,didn't you?"

"No.You're keeping your hands warm,not me.I just suggested it."He then gave her a patently forced smile, like he didn't want to discuss it.

"Don't-"she began,pausing before she could get her tirade started.What did Logan call what Bob did, beyond mindfucking?Oh,yes."-push me,all right?Even if you think it's for my own good."

He nodded."Alrighty."

She didn't believe him for a second,but what was she going to do about it?Shit.That was another frustrating thing about Bob:no one could make him do what he didn't want to do.How did you scare a guy who could alter reality with the sound of his voice?If he was any other person,she could make him do it with a telepathic suggestion (not that she would,because that was wrong),but he was adamant about her not trying anything telepathic on him,and went out of his way to avoid physical contact with her.At first she had been skeptical about that-it seemed like a convenient way to avoid telepathy-but the Professor was in so much pain around him,and the closer she got to him,the greater the feeling of psychic pressure,she couldn't help but think it was true.Or as close to true as you could get with him.

She let him lead the way out because she always felt it best to keep an eye on him,and he didn't even question it,in spite of his tendency towards casual politeness.

After the warmth of the jet,walking outside was like stepping into a meat locker.She swore she could feel the moisture in her eyes freezing the second the arctic air hit her,even though she knew it wasn't really that cold.It just felt unbearably frigid because she wasn't used to it.They were high up,but not so high that this place didn't thaw in the summer.Too bad it wasn't summer.

Bob,of course,seemed unaffected.In fact,he was singing again."Martyrs don't do much for me,although I enjoy them vicariously,"he sang quietly,his breath turning into plumes of white clouds in the gelid air.He paused briefly,and made a strange hand gesture at the jet,saying something that sounded somewhat (but not quite) Latin.

And then the jet disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Even though she was within an arm's reach of it,it still startled her,made her take a step back and visually search for it.

Bob went right back to singing,his boots crunching in the snow as he walked up the small hill he chose to hide the jet behind."After you,no after me.No I insist,please after me.Do I want to,with all that charm,do I want to twist my arm?"

His breath was like a vapor trail she was following in the wake of,and even though the snow was just an inch or two over ankle deep,it wasn't easy going:ice had formed on top of the snow,making it both harder and slicker than normal,and a couple of times she was sure she was going to slip and fall on her ass. Luckily, she managed not to.

"Oh shit,"Bob said,from the crest of the hill.He had come to a dead stop,waiting for her (or so she had thought),but now he thought she noticed a new and strange tension across his shoulders.

"What is it?"She asked,as she struggled up to the top.

"Scott beat us here,"he said,as she broached the crest of the hill.

Standing beside Bob,she looked down the slope at the tiny valley where Changan Junction was supposed to be nestled.But instead of a collection of utilitarian quonset huts and pseudo-Alpine cabins clustered around well salted roads,there was nothing but ruins.

Where homes and businesses used to be were large craters in the ground,and some were still smoldering, sending grey smoke wafting up into the cloudy sky.The black ribbon of road looked fractured,a huge chasm bisecting it down the middle,with jagged section of macadam sticking up like pointed teeth.A loose collection of building materials-part of a roof here,a part of a wall there,maybe a fragment of a door -and cars crumpled up like pop cans littered the snowy landscape for miles in all directions.

She felt sick to her stomach.Why did they do this?Those poor people.When Scott found out what they made him do,he'd never forgive himself.

She started carefully down the slope,and Bob said warningly,"Jean."

She looked back at him sternly."We have to see if there are survivors,Bob."

"I kinda doubt it,"he opined,but started following her down anyways.

This day continued to get worse and worse.She wondered how many people they were going to make Scott kill before they could stop him.

London-Present Day

No,he wasn't bitter.

Finally,they came to a really sad part of town,where warehouses of corrugated tin seemed to take over from dilapidated houses,and the smell of polluted water and dead fish became almost overpowering.He assumed they were near the 'docks',although he had yet to see the water.

"Well,fuck me sideways,"Srina suddenly exclaimed."It's still there."

He followed her eyes to a large,crumbling brick building that took up nearly half a block at the end of a rutted road,making it a dead end in a couple of senses of the word.All the tiny windows on the lower levels were covered with plywood and 'This Property Is Condemned-Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted' signs, while the upper level windows,too high up to board,were simply broken to the best of the ability of whatever rock throwers happened to pass by.Judging from the fact that most of the upper windows were still intact,he bet Londoners would never make decent baseball pitchers.

Srina brought her boxy little Citroen to a stop,pulling it up beside a junked out,stripped car that was missing its hubcaps,wheels,windows,and passenger side door.Her car was so squat and ugly it almost blended in perfectly;urban camouflage.

(When he asked her why she had never stolen a car,she pointed out London traffic was bad enough without having an invisible car,and besides,she didn't use it that much.And she'd had Ralph-the name of her car-since she'd left school,and as long as he ran,she wasn't going to replace him.She was a weird,weird woman.But it had also occurred to him no one would look for a high priced thief driving a beaten up old Citroen.)

He was happy to get out of the cramped car (it needed new shock absorbers) and away from the overwhelming cinnamon smell of her air freshener,but the reek of the air outside was even worse:salt and benzene,auto exhaust and decay (both animal and vegetable flesh),abandonment and concrete.He was shaking his head,trying too clear the scent from his nose to no avail,as she got out of the car,making sure to lock the door (why?)."Something wrong?"She asked,looking at him over the roof of Ralph.

He shook his head,giving up."Place stinks."

"Yeah,well,the smelter isn't far from here.Maybe I should have warned you."

"You think?"He snapped.He didn't know why he was taking it out on her,but suddenly he didn't want to be here.Looking at the four story factory,its formerly maroon bricks faded to a sort of washed out orange,looming against the backdrop of the gunmetal grey overcast sky,it looked ominous.A forgotten, abandoned body,left to decay,wither,and die in the sun...

(Like you.Just like you.)

...and he had a feeling it should be forgotten.He should be forgotten.

(Back out now before it's too late.)

"Oh,come on,don't be a smeghead,"she said,turning towards the derelict cannery."I haven't seen you in a dog's age.Excuse me if I forgot your super power of smelling."

He scowled at the back of her head since she didn't bother to look at him,and he followed,even though something in his gut was telling him to leave now.He was annoyed that something in him was so eager to turn tail,for no obvious reason at all.It was just a building,for fuck's sake,and an abandoned one at that.

They walked abreast up the broken street,towards the former cannery,and as its shadow started to cover them,he asked,finally,"How did you see me on the roof?Where were you?"

She grimaced,and she cast a furtive sidelong glance that just screamed guilty."I kind of followed you.I wanted to see what you were doing."

"What was I doing?"

"Hunting someone."

He was going to say "No kidding",but she had the strangest look on her face.It was sort of blank,but not perfectly expressionless.He didn't know what to make of it,and he had a feeling he should keep any sarcastic comments to himself."Yeah,I got that.But who?Did I meet him here?"

She shook her head,her fine magenta hair falling out of the loose ponytail she had attempted to gather it in at the nape of her neck."I don't know.I got knocked out."

That surprised him so much he stopped dead in his tracks."Knocked out?By whom?"

She looked back at him and shook her head."I got a concussion.I don't remember anything until I woke up in the hospital."

Was that true?He wasn't sure.He felt there was more to the story than she was saying."Did he try and kill you?"He asked,then added,feeling his stomach twist itself into a knot:"Did I?"

She paused,and actually attempted a weak smile."If you wanted to kill me,Logan,I doubt I'd be here."

He wondered if she meant helping him or simply being alive.Probably both.

The door of the cannery had a lock box on it that looked properly aged,the hasp of the padlocks looking rusted-so why did he smell the sharp tang of epoxy?

"What is it?"She asked,as he peered closely at the locks.

"I'm not so sure this place is abandoned.Ever been inside this place?"

"No."

"Wanna?"

She gave him a sly smile,her eyes sparkling with mirth."What about the locks?Oh,that was a stupid question,wasn't it?"

"Just a bit,yeah."He popped the claws on his right hand and sheered away the locks,although not as easily as he would have thought;there was the slightest bit of resistance before his claws cut through,although it was so miniscule he felt lucky to notice it.And since he was sure that wasn't the end of the locks (just the most visible ones),he slid the tips of his claws in the narrow slit between the door and the frame and heard more metal fall inside the building.Then he shoved the door open,and braced for anything.

It was sort of anti-climatic to find the interior was a dust reeking warehouse floor,the particles so thick in the anemic slivers of sunlight that they looked like a sluggish swarm of tiny insects.He sneezed-he couldn't help it-but he was aware there was a curious smell in the room that he couldn't reconcile with an abandoned cannery.

"Well,this is fascinating,"Srina said,stepping inside.She took a good,long look around,and said,"What do you think those are?"

He looked over to the far left side side of the huge floor,and saw bulky,boxy shaped,covered by what appeared to be weighted down oilskin tarps."I don't know,"he admitted,heading cautiously towards them.

The upper floors had been ripped out,so all the noises seemed to echo in the cavernous expanse,barely muffled by the thick cement floor (did canneries have cement floors?).He heard a high pitched noise of electricity,heavily dampened,and he wondered if they had triggered a silent alarm,or it was just whatever was hidden under the tarps.And for all the dust swirling in the air,there was very little on the floor or the tarps:someone had been here recently.He could even smell a tinge of humanity among the fluorocarbons in the stale,muggy air.

"Why would anyone have anything stored in this crumbling death trap?"She asked,as they reached the first crate.Logan knew now that it was thrumming with electricity;he could hear it,smell it,even feel it as he reached for the tarp.

He ripped it aside,throwing the tarp to the floor,and they both did a slight double take.

Logan hadn't been expecting anything,yet the metal framed container-approximately the size and shape of a chromed up coffin-was still stunning."What the hell is this?"Srina exclaimed,reaching out to touch it before she thought better of it."A cryogenic chamber?"

"It looks like it,doesn't it?"He looked for a window,a control panel,but he didn't see either.

"Do you think someone's in it?"

"It's running."Not really an answer,but an incredible simulation of one.