Sometimes it was as warm as blood, and it was no exception now - it was as warm as it was gelatinous, an ichor green goop that surrounded him, holding his body up from the bottom of the tank, and yet he wasn't buoyant enough to float to the top of it. He was stuck in the middle, a seeming violation of gravity, an oxygen mask clamped over his nose and mouth to keep him from drowning.

But Logan couldn't move, and didn't know if he was actually breathing or not. In a drugged half consciousness, he was only peripherally aware of all these things. What he could feel the most strongly were the things under his skin. They felt like long, cold needles jabbed in his veins, working their way slowly through his bloodstream. It hurt; god it hurt, and he wanted it to stop. He wanted to move his arms and rip them out, pull himself out of this fucking tank and kill them - the shadowy figures that moved beyond the green walls of his narrow prison, attending to the mechanical bleeps of machines in the outside world, their voices idiot murmurs that made no sense at all ( but they were all men here; there were no female tones, no higher pitches ) - but all he could do was lay there, as quiescent as a pickled fetus in a jar, and wait for these men to get tired of torturing him. And he knew from experience that they had all the time in the world, and they didn't get bored easily.

He tried to focus on moving any body part - it didn't matter what - hoping that it would be the start of a body wide rebellion against whatever drugs were keeping him under, but still allowing him to feel every ounce of pain.

But no, nothing. Just pain, agony weaving its way into every fiber of his being in slow motion, a raw nerve being pulled taut, scrubbed raw with salt, and doused with acid.

Words started to filter through, distant, as if in another room. " - threw you the obvious, just to see if there's more - "

It was music; someone had turned on radio. What the fuck was this, a garden party for them? " - behind the eyes of a fallen angel; eyes of a tragedy - "

It was getting closer, sounding clearer, and he was starting to feel ... what? Numb? The pain was ebbing away. "Here I am expecting just a little bit too much from the wounded. But I see, see through it all. See through - "

The tank suddenly collapsed ... no, it disappeared. Logan hit the floor hard, green goop splashing to the cement around him, and instantly he was on his feet, ripping tubes from his arms as he turned to face his tormenters -

- only to find they were gone, and he was alone in an empty room. No, not alone.

" - see you." It was Bob, leaning against the metal door jamb, looking weary but hardly worse for wear. Seeing Logan, he cocked his head, and said, "Might want to think up some clothes for yourself, 'cause I'm startin' to feel inadequate."

He glanced down at himself to see the tubes and green slime were all gone, but yes, he was naked. He had no idea how dreamscapes worked exactly, so he tried to imagine he had his jeans on. For some reason, it didn't work until he closed his eyes. When he looked back at Bob, he realized that even though he was no longer singing,  Logan could still hear faint music. "Helga's playing "Mer de Noms" right now," he said, giving him a CD title that meant nothing to him. But still his mind instantly translated it into "Sea of Names", and he wondered if that was Bob taking some kind of obscure shot at him, or just a weird coincidence.

"So you're really here?" It was, in retrospect, a stupid question.

But Bob must have forgiven it, because he turned his attention to the corroded metal boundaries of the cold room they were in, and he walked over to a shadowed wall that was half formed in Logan's mind, and therefore just a bit of darkness. Or it was - the closer Bob got to it, the more it filled itself in. A wall of large drawers? No, that didn't seem right ... in fact, it seemed to send a chill down Logan's spine.

"Is it any wonder I can't sleep?" Bob sang, counter to the music - the singer he could hear through Bob's ears ( ? ) was singing something else. He wiped his hand over one of the drawers, clearing corrosion away from what appeared to be a nameplate, although Logan still couldn't read it. "All I have is all you gave to me."

Logan realized, with a sudden lurch of his heart, that this was a morgue. Those were cold storage drawers full of bodies. "I survived," he said, although he had no idea why. No, he did.

Bob nodded, and made no move to open any drawer. The entire wall seemed to sink back into blackness. "You wonder if you're the only one."

Logan was about to deny it, but suddenly knew that was true. "What do you think?"

Bob turned to face him, shrugging expansively. "With their level of tech, and their tendencies to be rotten fucking butchers, it  was lucky you survived. No, I take that back - not luck, but your will to survive."

"You mean my body's will to survive." The healing process had nothing to do with his whims.

"I think it's the same thing," Bob countered, then added, "Can I make the location a bit nicer?"

"Be my guest."

There was no sense of change: one second it was some dark torture chamber cum morgue, and the next second they were on a sunwashed patio, the light so bright it made Logan squint. He wished he was surprised to find himself reclining in a lawn chair with a bright red drink in his hand,  decorated by one of those toothpick umbrellas with a skewered piece of fruit and a swizzle stick that looked like a pink flamingo. He scowled at Bob, sitting next to him in a similar lawn chair, wearing only sunglasses and those goddamn ugly, loud surfing shorts of his, a similarly frou frou drink in his hand, only it was pale orange. They were sitting poolside at what Logan vaguely identified as Bob's Sydney place.

"So yer playin' possum? Why?" Since there had been nothing he could for Helga - or Bob - and he had no real desire to speak to Jean or any other of the super squad, he barricaded himself in his room and decided to rest his eyes for a second, before Jean forced the door. Obviously, he fell asleep.

"I'm not, actually. You're just the easiest mind for me to access." He took a leisurely sip of his drink.

Logan sniffed his drink warily, and then set it down on the patio. It smelled nice - rich and full of rum - but he remembered what happened the last time he had a drink in Bob's mind ( well, so to speak ), and while getting drunk for once was kind of fun, it was also kind of embarrassing. He had embarrassed himself enough for one day. "Okay, now I'm offended."

"Don't be, it's not an insult. It's just you had some of my energy in your mind before; it makes a sort of passageway."

"Doesn't Hel have a mental connection with you?"

"Yes, but it's different." He didn't elaborate, he just put his own drink down on the mica flecked patio, and seemed to gaze up at the hard sun in the cerulean blue sky. Logan was going to get on him about the evasion, but he noticed, as if for the first time, that Bob looked pale; he could see miniature highways of blue energy pulsing like blood beneath the thin skin of his chest. And now his presence seemed less ... overwhelming than other times. He really was hurting, wasn't he?

"Yeah, I am," Bob said, commenting on his thoughts without shame. ( Like Bob knew what the hell shame was ... ) "Fenny damn near killed me. He kept tryin' to rip the sky apart, and I had to hold it together - that's just bad form in battle."

"Rip the sky apart? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means rip it apart - take out the atmosphere, everything: let the oxygen escape into space. He's a piece of work, he is."

"He could do that?" He didn't think Bob was making one of his lame jokes this time. "Why didn't he do that before?"

"What, and have me miss the fun? He'd never do that. Fen's a right sadist."

Logan couldn't help but notice Bob was speaking of him as if he was still around."Jean left me with the impression he was dead."

"For all intents and purposes, yes."

"You're gonna explain that, right?"

"Well, he's been sucked through Balder's gate. There's no way he's gettin' out of there, not even with high powered help."

Logan knew, if his head could hurt for no physical reason, it would now. " A coin? He got sucked into a gold bullion?"

Bob gave him a toothy grin, but it was anemic and as fragile as a spider web. "Not quite. Heard the term "coin of the realm"?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it is. Literally."

Logan scowled at him before glancing at Bob's bluer than blue pool. The clouds painted on the bottom seemed fainter this time, life afterimages or wisps of fog. "That makes no fucking sense and you know it."

Bob sighed, as if he was the one being difficult. "I'll  try and give you the short version. In your myth, Loki killed Balder and pretty much set in motion what would become Ragnarok, the death of all gods, but none of that happened exactly as myth would have you believe it. Balder wasn't killed by Loki, although it wasn't for lack of trying - those two hated each other. Went at it like cats with vises on their testicles." Logan wasn't even going to ask. "But they never could quite kill each other, and Loki had just had his kid when Balder decided to dis - incorporate - "

"Do you mean die?"

"No. Dis - incorporate. It's a god thing - transform into pure energy and strew yourself about. Anyhoo, Balder did have a minor gift of second sight, and knew Fenrir would cause major trouble someday, so he created the gate: a very specific microportal that opened up into a pocket universe that was more isolated and Stygian and impossible to access than all the others. Because he knew Fenrir would try and destroy it, he let it be known it was a portal, but left out the little fact that it had been hidden by a potent spell so it resembled a gold coin. He hid it really well, and started to spread the word it was a myth, and after he destroyed a number of portals and never found it,  Fenrir bought it. Of course it was a lie, but Balder planned it that way."

"But Kitty touched it, and she wasn't sucked in. So did Scott. So, I bet, did you. Why didn't you get trapped there?"

"Balder keyed the portal to open only at Fenrir's energy frequency. See, while other goods could mimic it, they could never specifically hit it, because o - the frequencies are different for each one, like DNA for Humans."

He was going to say "our", wasn't he? Fuck, he must be in dire straits if he almost admitted it. "So no one mimicking it could get it to open?"

"No. And it's a one way portal, so it can only be opened from the coin itself, which you may note has been left in this dimension."

"Cause it was stuck in the center of his chest - there was no way he could take it with him when it pulled him in from the inside out."

"Bingo, mate. You're good at this."

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Stay eighteen steps ahead of everyone else?"

"Well, when you get to my age -"

"Do you have this second sight too? Are you psychic?" He scowled at him, wondering if he'd get the truth now.

Bob gave him a frail smile, and Logan knew he wouldn't."No, mate, and boy am I glad about that. I think that'd take some of the fun out of life, you know?" He must have picked up on his mood, because he sighed heavily, and said, "You have a gift for strategy, yes? Well, so do I, mate, if in a slightly less violent way. We all have strengths we can play to, even Scott, believe it or not. I counted on him to protect the others if I got roughed up, and he did. He has the aspect of the mother hen about him, doesn't he?"

Logan shrugged. "Somethin' cock related, yeah."

Bob burst into raucous laughter, seemingly surprised by it. Was Bob ever surprised by anything, though? "Oh, that was a good one," he said finally, wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Why am I here, Bob?" He was sure there was a point he was missing, but maybe not. With Bob, it wasn't always a sure thing.

"I heard Helga talkin' to you. Tell her it's not her fault, and I know what's really goin' on here. Also, let her know that she should call Ammy and get her to zap me outta here. While recovering, I can't always control ... things, and I don't want any telepaths gettin' hurt on my account."

That was an interesting statement. "What's really goin' on here?"

"A power play, disguised as revenge. I'll explain it more as soon as I confirm it."

Logan doubted that severely, but what was he going to do? Try and beat him up in his own mind? Even with Bob at less than a hundred percent, he was sure he wouldn't allow that. "You enjoy bein' cryptic, don't you?"

"Of course. I have my image to think of."

"Which image is that?"

"The cryptic one."

Logan sighed. They really did miss their calling as a comedy team. "I'll pass it on to Helga."

"Cheers, mate. And I'll catch you up once I'm back on my feet again. Promise."

"Yeah," Logan sighed, not believing him for a second. But he was too tired to argue with him, and it wasn't like that ever worked.

And just like that, he woke up in  his dark bedroom, instantaneously aware he wasn't alone.

"Don't stab me," Helga said, settling her head on his chest.

He would have sat up, but she was laying partially on top of him - her head and the right half of her torso on his chest, her right leg over his leg, and her tail curled around his waist - and if he did, he'd have thrown her to the floor. He knew from experience she'd drag him along with too. "You seemed really relaxed," she continued, gently stroking his abdomen. "Bob was talking to you, wasn't he?"

"What, you think I can't sleep like normal people?"

"Only after really energetic sex."

Well, okay, she might have had a point there. He did seem to have his most restful ( as in non - screaming ) sleep after sex, or when he seriously needed down time to heal. Was that just a coincidence? "You knew he would, didn't you?" He glanced towards the door, which looked just as he had left it - locked and barricaded - and asked, "Can you teleport too?"

"I was an assassin too, honey - I'm used to getting into places I'm not supposed to."

He didn't like the fact that she had added "too". He had no actual proof he'd been an assassin ... not really ... "He wants to let you know it's not your fault, and Ammy should zap him outta here before he accidentally blows up a telepath's head."

She traced circles on his stomach, just above his navel. It almost tickled, yet it was starting to become arousing. He wished she'd knock it off. "Did he tell you why it wasn't my fault?"

"He implied the T'Karii were a means to a different end, but he didn't bother to elaborate." He grabbed her hand and moved it up his chest, to safer territory.

"Of course not. If he actually told us what he meant, it would be too damn easy." She sighed, smoothing her hand over his chest. "It's terrible, isn't it?"

"Bob bein' an asshole?"

"Well, that and all this crap. Do ya ever wonder what it would be like to have a normal life?"

"No."

She propped herself up on one elbow and stared down at him with an ironic look on her face. "There's just no wastin' time with you, is there?"

He shrugged. "Why bother?"

"Agreed." He wasn't surprised that she kissed him, but he was surprised at how soft a kiss it was, far more tender than he expected from the passionate Helga.

Even though he knew what she was doing, he responded anyways, kissing her as her tail slid down his leg, tickling the inside of his thigh. She gently took his bottom lip between her teeth, a love bite that didn't break the skin but sent an oddly thrilling pain through his body. God,she was just too good at this.

He pushed her back slightly, and pointed out, "You don't want me." Ego blow that it was, he knew he was just a proxy for Bob.

She didn't even try to deny it. She simply raised a slender jade eyebrow, and replied, "And you don't want me. So who's hurt?"

He just stared at her, not sure what to say. Even his first thought - "How did you know that?" - shocked him. She must have seen it in his eyes, because her look became unusually sympathetic. "Hey, Logan, it's okay."

"It isn't okay! I do want ... " He slid out from under her and sat up, on the edge of the bed. His back was facing her, but he could feel and hear the bed shift as she sat up as well. Even before she put her warm hand on his spine, he knew she was looking straight at him. The silence became thick, and he could barely stand it. "How do you make the ghosts go away?" He finally asked, his voice pitched so low he could barely himself talk. "When do they finally leave you alone?"

She sighed heavily. "You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?" Her hand slid down his back, and she muttered to herself, "He's gonna make me say it." She cleared her throat, and said, "When you let them go, Logan. When you let them go."

He wasn't surprised she had said that, and yet, he had no idea what to say.

How did you let go? How did you let go of something you could barely remember having?

Logan wondered if he'd ever find the answer, and if he could ever bear to let Mariko go.

Epilogue

Sydney, Australia

"Helga," he said cheerfully, as Bob started down the stairs. She must have just come in from the pool. Even Bad Religion blasting on the stereo couldn't drown him out. "You're lookin' hot,  if I don't say so myself. Oh hey, I made a joke!" He then proceeded to laugh at said lame joke.

Man, he could be the most obnoxious thing in existence. "You're better off dead," Bob sang quietly. "A smile on the lips and a hole in the head." He was still enervated from the battle with Fenrir, but he was strong enough ... or at least he hoped he was. "Better off dead, you're better than this. Take it away 'cause there's nothing to miss."

"Hello, Loki," he said, as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, Bobbo!" Loki said, turning to face him. From the neck down, he looked just like tall, thin white guy, currently wearing baggy camouflage pants and a skin tight black t - shirt that only men who had a chest like Logan should have been allowed to wear: otherwise it was just sad and embarrassing. But from the neck up, Loki looked almost like a regular guy with a lean knife blade of a face, as pale as milk, until you reached his scalp. There, in place of hair, was fire - a six inch high topknot of flame that constantly flickered and burned, sending red orange shadows playing across his ashen, gaunt face. It was disconcerting to people who had never seen before, and there had been awkward moments when people thought he was actually on fire, not realizing that the flames was actually a part of him, a part of the energy that made Loki what he was. "Ooh, man, you don't look so good."

"I'm getting better." He was; that wasn't a lie. Bob met his gaze, which was the thing that got to people most of all, and which was why Humans couldn't look Loki in the face - tiny flames burned in his eye sockets, the same red orange as the flame on his scalp. Fenrir had no flames outside his body, but he did have yellow fire burning in his sockets. It would have been deeply unsettling had any Human been able to look at him face on.

"I'm gonna go finish tanning," Helga said, gesturing towards the pool. She was in the kitchen, between him and Loki, who was standing in the center of the living room. She was trying to pretend she wasn't freaked out by his proximity to her, but Helga had never liked Loki, so he didn't think it was strange.

Bob gave her a reassuring smile, aware she was also nervous for him. There was no need - just seeing Loki filled him with a sort of righteous anger that only made him feel stronger.

"Don't let us keep ya, hon," Loki said, a leer obvious in his voice. But when he looked back at Bob again, his expression was studiously bland. "I'm really sorry about Fenny. Any idea how he got out?"

Bad Religion was now singing, "Let's talk about no one, please talk about no one; someone; anyone," and it seemed perfectly timed. He'd certainly put on the right CD at the right time.

Bob sat down on the arm of the couch, deciding to concentrate his strength where he'd need it. He folded his hands on his knee, and tried to keep the anger from his voice and expression. "No, not really. All I can figure is it was someone really powerful, working with the T'Karii clan."

Loki grimaced in thought, his thin lips writhing like worms on hot pavement. "Shit, who'd do a thing like that? I mean, I know he was my kid, but fuck, I'm glad Fenny's gone. He was never right in the head, you know?"

"Boy, do I know." He paused briefly. "Kinda like his parent."

Loki laughed, but it petered out as he realized he wasn't kidding. "What's that supposed to mean?" The flames flared briefly in his eyes.

"Fenny screwed the pooch, Lok. You know what he said to me? He said:"Chaos already reigns here. Who better than me?" Thing is, Lok, that sounded like you, not him."

"He's my kid - he would sound like me."

"Not after centuries locked away. And not when he never did in the first place."

Now the flames were really burning hot in his sockets. "You don't know everything, Bob."

"Why, Loki? If you wanted to kill me, why not do it yourself?"

Loki took a step back, assumed a defensive posture. "You're high. I'd never try and kill you!"

"No, because you can't. But Fenny had a decent shot. Why, Loki? Why did you decided you wanted this realm so badly now?"

The flames in Loki's eyes seemed to jump out of his sockets, and Bob knew he was now trying to use his powers, either against him or to get out of here, but entropy wasn't responding, and by the way his posture seemed to become uncertain, Loki was starting to get the idea he had been prepared for him. "You're late for my pool party. Lok. Know who got here before you? Ganesha. He's havin' a wallow - you know how he loves the water."

Loki's expression was torn between hate and panic. The thing was, Ganny was always a bit self conscious, not only for looking like an elephant, but also for having what he perceived as a "useless" power: control of entropy over a small area. The funny thing was, though, he completely negated Loki's power - although Loki controlled the forces of entropy, they were out of his reach whenever Ganesha was in proximity to him.

And unlike Loki, Ganny was a true friend.

Bob got to his feet, and Loki took several steps back. Without entropy at his command, he was powerless against Bob, and they both knew it. "Your connect to the T''Karii was an excuse, wasn't it? You used your own hopelessly psychotic son for a power grab, didn't you?"

"Now look, maybe you can live with these fucking savages, but I can't!" Loki roared, retreating to rage in his fear. "I can't fuckin' slum with these beasts! We're so much better than this! I could make this a realm worth living in again!"

"No, you couldn't, and we both know that was never your intention. But maybe you can help somewhere else. Have you ever thought of that?" Bob said the words and gestured behind Loki, and he looked over his shoulder in shock as reality ripped apart, and a black void gaped behind him.

His head snapped back towards him, flames flaring, as he gaped in complete shock. "Bob - !" He shouted, but that was all he was able to say as reality closed around him, and he was surgically removed from this one.

Bob got a head rush that left him feeling weak, so he sat down heavily on the couch. Sometimes he could really feel his age.

After a few seconds, Helga peeked her head back inside. "Gan said there was a big energy expenditure; he figured it was over."

Bob looked up and nodded. "Over and out."

"I don't suppose you killed him." She came over and sat beside him on the couch, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder.
She was wearing a green tank top and black shorts, modest attire for her, but he knew it was only because Ganesha was around. She still felt "funny" about being half naked around Ganny.

"I couldn't do that, Hel." He put an arm around her, and enjoyed the scent of her sun warmed skin. "I'm not the amoral freak that he was."

"So what did you do with him?" She nestled against him, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Her warm hair tickled, but it was a nice feeling.

"I sent him to a dimension where entropy is completely out of control. It'll take him a long time to get  a handle on things."

"But then he'll come back for you."

"It'll take him a few centuries to stabilize entropy enough to successfully open a portal, and by then, I don't think he'll be stupid enough to try and take me on again."

"No, he'll get someone else to do it, just like now."

"So? I'll kick all their asses." He kissed the top of her head, and she put her arms around his waist, her tail curling around his thigh.

"You're lucky you have me lookin' after you," she said wryly.

He smiled, stroking her upper arm gently, her skin warm and smooth. If Loki couldn't live in this dimension, he wasn't really trying. "Yes, I am," he agreed, closing his eyes and sinking back into the couch, holding Helga tightly to him.

It really wasn't a bad life, if you knew what to do with it.

THE END