Shadowed Past (Logan/Kitty)

[katherinepryde]

Kitty knocked on the wood of Logan's door. It was time. She'd forced herself to slave for months on her latest project: Finding out who Logan was and what he couldn't remember. The memories couldn't be unlocked, the Professor had told her, because Logan's mind had been forced to forget them by way of medical procedure or tragic accident, not due to psychic erasing. The memories were lost.

Shadowcat had walked out of the Professor's office with a determined frown. The memories wouldn't be lost if she could reawake them. She cared for Logan, like a father, like an older brother, a mentor. They'd been through so much together, he'd taught her the martial arts and he was the reason she'd left after Jean's death to travel and find more pieces of herself, learning more fighting techniques and more things to better herself. She liked having the satisfaction of getting Logan's approval.

He had struggled with this loss his whole life and she was determined to find out just what it was. It was only when she'd tripped over government files she'd hacked into that she began to find a trail. That trail, took her to an island where an army base had been. Where it still was. Kitty had risked her life sneaking into that place, finding out about it only after speaking with Gambit in New Orleans. He pointed her in the direction when he said that was when he and Logan had first met, when Logan paraded on his poker party and knocked him out in an alley before making him take him to the place Gambit escaped.

Kitty tracked it down. And now she stood, an armful of confidential files and discs of footage from her findings. This information, this secret and all it lead to was about to be unleashed where it belonged. And if the authorities ever knew where those files had gotten, her life was at stake.

So as she stood looking at the door, she couldn't hide the determined pride and shadows of fear in her large, brown eyes before she revealed to Logan his Shadowed Past.

[silence]

Logan invited Kitty in almost as soon as she'd knocked. He'd known she was around, tasting her scent about halfway down the hall, but when she'd stopped at his door he had to admit it surprised him a little. She was a great friend, almost like a sister or his kid in more ways than one, and they'd helped each other fight plenty of times. But she usually didn't come to his room. No one did.

No one except for those pretty ladies from Salem's local bar, that is.

He was on his bed, his back against the headboard, poking around in that day's paper. He'd usually read it in the kitchen or even the den, but the idiot who came around to drop it off hadn't showed up until around ten o'clock. Logan had been waiting for him, hanging around the front door until the kid pulled up in his van.

He probably wouldn't be late again, that was for damn sure.

Anyway, Logan didn't enjoy the kitchen much when it was full. It being a Saturday (?), that was a guarantee at around ten in the morning, so he'd taken the newspaper upstairs. Some of the students enjoyed reading it, and they could usually find it down there later after he was done, but they'd have to suck it up today. He wasn't in the mood for their whining.

His voice was a bit gruff when he told Kitty the door was open, but he didn't glare daggers at her once she came inside. He wasn't mad at her, he told himself. Just that bastard working for the Chronicle.

Logan eyed Pryde, one brow raised at her unexpected visit. He was waiting for her to speak, as usual, also giving her a cursory glance out of habit, keen eyes collecting details in a quick once-over. The files in her hand caught his eye; he gave a sniff, and stiffened.

Jesus Christ, where did she get those? They had military written all over them...literally, he was sure, but also just because of the stench. But it wasn't Alkali Lake.

It was the place from his dreams.

Explosions. Pain. Death, almost that, though it was impossible...and heartbreak.

Hatred.

Stryker's face.

Wolverine sniffed again; folded his paper; stood up. He was only about as tall as she was, but he was bulkier, and the frown that darkened his eyes then was not a welcoming one. "What the hell is that, Pryde?" he asked, the stress of the memories giving his voice a hint of a low growl.

His arms were burning with an instinctive desire to hurt something; he held back the fire in his wrists with all the strength he had. Still, he'd be down in the Danger Room later, working it off...the tension was more than he'd ever felt before.

[katherinepryde]

Kitty smiled when she heard Logan's gruff voice. Same old Logan, she never wanted him to change, not a bit. She opened the door and stepped in, naturally, she felt his dark eyes taking in every detail as he had been trained to do for years, with these files, it all made so much sense now.

"What is it, Pryde?" He asked, a growl darker than usual in his tone that made her stiffen a bit in return. No, he wasn't angry with her, just upset for the paper boy she was sure. She'd watched him pace the Front Hall for nearly two hours while she debated on when to tell him of her findings. And Pryde, her name that only he gave her, it warmed her to hear it. For a long time, it had been half-pint untill she'd begun to prove herself above that one. She'd trained so hard, been so determined to prove herself to him. And it showed, in the only way Logan knew how to show it.

"I won't bother asking you not to freak out," She said, locking his door behind her. She could phase if he attacked out of anger, the door, would be ripped to shreds if it needed to be, but at least it would slow him down. Yet, she wasn't sure if rage or stunned silence is what she would get for telling him. "I wouldn't dream of asking such a thing. But I do want you to listen." She lifted her gaze from the floor, pinning her soft, brown eyes on him. "Logan, I would have left these in your keeping to look at how you will, but I need to return them...some time. In the same shape they are in. And since I went through what I did to get them, I want the honor of telling you all myself." Slowly, gingerly, she neared the bed and sat on the foot of it. Her light weight barely brought the corner down for such a small girl.

"Logan..." She bit her lip, it had taken hours to recite this to the mirror, she couldn't back down now. "I know what they did to you, I know how you became what you are and who was involved in your life. I ...I know everything." She wasn't about to tell him how she'd gotten the information, he'd be enraged to know how much danger she'd been in, how much she still was in. "I know what those memories are of yours that you can't see and that Professor can't pluck out. I know why they are draped in shadow...and I'm here to tell you everything."

[silence]

Logan narrowed his eyes as Kitty locked the door but kept his mouth shut, shifting as she passed him to sit on the bed. He didn't want to be near the folders, their smell like poison to his mind, and he took a step back once she'd gotten settled. It didn't matter whether he backed away or not--the scent had permeated the room, even in that short time--but it made him feel a little calmer if he stood back. There was something nasty in those papers that made him want to run.

Her next words brought the tension back to his shoulders and he cocked his head at the words. They fit the context, but they still surprised him...it wasn't how he'd have expected her to start in on something like this. He didn't move until she'd finished talking and resisted the urge to snatch the documents out of her hands. The room was suddenly very cold. He glanced down, his shifting eyes the only things that moved, and found his gaze caught on the folders Kitty held. Did he really want to see these? He was contemplating...instinct had guided him for this long, forgotten things pointing him in the right direction when he wasn't sure what to do, and he liked that. But details, details were a luxury he hadn't indulged in for who knew how long and it might be nice to find out the why.

Still, that was the question. Did he really want to leave behind his need-to-know mentality? He had no idea what those folders contained. And there were no instincts guiding him in his choice.

The silence pressed on, quickly becoming uncomfortable. Logan's eyes were still on the package Kitty had brought him, but that was not what he was focusing on. His thoughts were reliving last night...and the night before that, and the night before that. Are they real? The dreams that had haunted him for so long, was there fact hidden somewhere under the kaleidoscope of subconscious visions? He didn't know.

A pair of hearts brought him back to reality, Pryde's thumping quietly and his fumbling away loudly in his chest. He glanced up and met her eyes. "Where'd ya get this?" he asked, his voice quiet and cold. It was a valid question, even though he'd asked it for little more than a distraction. He had a pretty good idea of where Kitty had gone, but he'd have to hear it to believe it. To believe that she'd go to those lengths for someone like him.

Logan probably wouldn't accept the facts even if she confirmed his suspicions. It just didn't make sense to him. But he'd hear her say it, just to have a way of explaining this to himself later.

He took hold of a corner of the packet, his eyes still locked on hers, waiting. Asking her for permission. And, in his own silent way, thanking her for the effort...though he had no idea whether he'd appreciate this later or not.

[katherinepryde]

Kitty gulped loudly. She tried hard to keep her heart steady. She wasn't afraid of him, no, he was like her father. But when he'd realize what she'd done, how much danger that she had trampled in to get these files...he'd be upset with her. So for now, she waited, calmly tracing patterns in the carpeted floor as he stood and stared in some sort of drawn out awkward silence.

But when he spoke, she winced and visible curled in on herself. The movement made her side ache terribly and she winced deeper. She'd been good at sneaking in, but the sneaking out part had left it's mark on her. The ragged blade of the Base's guard had caught her just before she could phase. Keeping the wound a secret had been tough, but she'd managed so far. Her side was still wrapped in several layers of gauze to hold the bleeding at bay while it healed.

Logan's hand tugged at the corner of the papers pile and she nodded, releasing them to him. "I, I don't think you should ask questions to which you don't want the answers to." Maybe he'd just leave it be, maybe he'd let her slide through clear. "I know you're confused, on if you really do want to know what happened to you.." Her head lifted, strands of chestnut hair falling over her eyes as they welled up with tears at the memory of what lay in those files. She'd cried for hours over those files, reading what had happened to her dear friend. "But I would want to know....there's beauty in there too." It didn't sound possible, but it was true.

[silence]

OOC: I'm going by movieverse here...as I recall, Logan claimed he was Canadian as a way of getting out of Stryker's second try at recruiting him. This is somewhat of a guess, an organization that might have hosted something like this under loose control. If you need me to change it to S. H. E. I. L. D. or the Canadian militia or whatever, I'd definitely be willing to edit this.

Logan held on to the papers as she spoke, ignoring them for the moment. Her explanation confirmed his guess, as far as he could tell. "You went ta Stryker?" he asked, incredulity at what she'd been able to do masked by sudden anger. He flipped open the first folder and his eyes skimmed the title, taking it in and realizing all too quickly just what kind of a thing the girl had done. "Ya stole this shit from INSCOM?" He knew what INSCOM was (considering how easily the information had come to him, he'd known for a while) and he didn't want her to have any part of it. "Girl, your body should be roastin' on a pike in the pentagon right now. Hell, they're probably still on yer trail! Ya got any idea how many cameras they got in that Virginia base?" His voice was low but getting louder, a violent growl rumbling in his ribcage, facts he didn't know existed sliding of his tongue like water off a duck's back. But Logan had learned control here, after years of ignoring his humanity in an effort to end the fights quicker...that had worked at the time, but now he needed to listen to new rules. He was glaring at Kitty, he realized, and he looked away, his jaw clenching shut with an audible snap. Long seconds passed as he swallowed his instincts, but when he turned back to her his rage had cooled. "Ya could've asked for help, darlin'," he said, his voice cold with disapproval. He watched her a second longer before turning his gaze to the folders in his hand.

U.S. Army Intelligence and Security Command Center
Fort Belvoir, Fairfax County, Virginia 22060
Scientific Permissions and Release
August 7th, 1979

General Information
Intentions: Expanding research; examining mutations, root causes and genetic limits.
Participants: James Howlett, Scott Summers, Christopher Bradley, Victor Creed, Remy LeBeau, Wade Wilson, Kayla Silverfox, David North, Emma Frost.
Participant Signatures of Release: Included in document 3.
Facility: Alkali Lake Military Base, British Columbia, Canada
Date of Operations: January 1, 1974--December 31, 1994
Commander: Colonel William Stryker
Staff: Included in document 2.
Conditions: In exchange for the full operations of this base, its extensions, excursions and/or full relocation, materials, salaries, resources as made available by the United States Government, legal pardons on the following issues: medical preferences, organ donations, rights designated to these participants in regards to wills and/or last testaments, and compensation for injury, loss of life or property, these undersigned persons relinquish control of these operations to those higher officers completely. All rights to compensation for injury, loss of life or property are hereby relinquished. Upon failure of completion, this operation will be terminated immediately and any connection to the United States Government will be erased completely. Failure to complete these tasks listed above will be viewed as treason and the undersigned will face the full penalties of law.

It went on, more details included than Logan cared to see, the extensive conditions, lists of penalties and complicated descriptions of the intentions of the operation hard to slog through. He did his best, frowning at what he read as he plowed slowly through the document. One thing that he could see was common throughout...whoever had planned this didn't want to be blamed for loss of life, or injury, or anything else. Loss of life seemed to be his biggest concern; the reason for that was blatantly obvious, and the words could have been written in the blood of the so-called 'volunteers' for all the tact that they had.

Disgusted, he flipped to the second and third pages with a flippant flick of his wrist. The second sheet had nothing of interest for him, except for Stryker's name, listed boldly across the top, defying him with every letter. Logan turned it over quickly, turning to the final page with another flick. And then there was his signature, halfway down the page, the scrappy letters cutting deep into the page even though the pen had probably worked well enough not to need the extra pressure.

He hadn't recognized the name at first. James Howlett. It was something he'd never known, and it did not bring him a torrent of memories like the adamantium needles had at Alkali lake. It meant nothing to him. But the words he'd written had meant more.

Logan

A simple word, really. No meaning at all. Nothing more than a title. But it showed more of his character than he would have expected to find.

He'd signed as Logan. That said a lot, just those five letters pressed into the page by a younger hand. He'd been called Logan, for one.

To be continued...

[katherinepryde]

OOC: You're doing amazing! I don't want you to change a thing!

Kitty sunk into the bed further with each glare passed her way. No, they'd not caught her, or if they did, she'd already destroyed all their equipment and security cameras. They would get no lead on who had broken in and taken the information.

"There's tapes..." She murmured, sliding them out from the pile. "Of the experiment...on you." She bit her lip and had to focus hard to choke back her whimper. She'd never heard Logan in such pain before in her life. "And...since the files gave nothing of your past before the Weapon X program, I searched deeper and found the information on his computer." She cupped her delicate hand over her mouth, shaking visibly. It scared her, it frightened the hell out of her. What they had done to him, what they did to the others, how they had done it. Stryker had been there, when she'd arrived. He'd seen her for a few moments, watched her phase through the walls so easily undetected. And that sick, twisted smile of interest had made her stomach roil and bile collect in her throat.

"What a beautiful gift." He'd said, standing from his computer chair to stare at her more intently.
"Thanks, want to see my next one?" And she'd phased inside his body, take control of him, and collected the passwords to every computer database and his memories on Logan and the other program victims. There, in his mind, she heard his thoughts so far away.

'She would make an excellent addition with some minor changes.'

Kitty choked on her sob at the images the replayed themselves in her mind at the memory. "Logan I know who you were, you once told him the whole story when he first recruited you." She bit her wrist hard, trying not to cry though the tears burned at her eyes.

[silence]

Logan's eyes flicked over to Kitty, her voice barely controlled and her scent roiling. The cool, natural tang that he used to identify her, much more reliably than by sight, was laced with fear and swallowed tears and something more sour...worry? Horror? 

Pity?

He found himself growling a little at the last option, and quickly swallowed his irritation. He couldn't get mad at her for that.

Logan took the cassettes Pryde brought to his attention and quickly crouched to put them on the floor, being careful not to damage them but also not wanting to set them on his furniture. They did not deserve to be anywhere but on the scuffed hardwood beneath his feet, only inches away from three gashes he hadn't bothered to tell anyone to repair.

Wolverine leafed through the papers slowly, silent as he perused through a past he'd never thought he'd find...and now, here it was, handed to him by a teenage girl.

Damn.

The computer printouts caught his eye almost immediately. They were written exclusively on his life before the experiments, the pages chock-full of events and government programs he might have been involved in. They were listed like historical proofs, the possible involvements listed in one column of the neat tables and the probability of the event listed in the other.

The earliest one on any of the three sheets was the murder of two men and a woman.

In 1845.

How they got the year so precise was not difficult to determine. It was so blatantly obvious it was painful...a slap across the face.

He'd told them.

The source was printed plainly there. Emotionlessly. Confirmed by subject. Logan glared at the paper, the growl in his throat now going unnoticed. He was trapped by his own past, the decision he'd made back then the equivalent to the rope of his own noose. The whole thing was separate from him, a different identity that didn't really connect because the threads had been cut, but Logan now knew that he was a part of this. Had been all along. He'd chosen this life for himself.

And that hurt like hell.

Wolverine let out a wicked snarl and flung the documents across the room with a powerful arm, the pile making a harsh slap as it hit the wall. Papers and envelopes and god knew what else was scattered all over the floor. He didn't hit Kitty with his throw by miracle alone...and at that moment he doubted he would have regretted it if he had. He whipped around and stormed out of the room, destroying the lock to his door with one angry slash before knocking the door itself out of his way. The thing was flimsy, in relative terms, and Logan was half-tempted to shred it and burn it with everything else Pryde had brought, but he decided that what he needed most was something that would at least offer a challenge.

He went through the doors in the front hall and stalked off towards the woods, miraculously avoiding anyone who might have wanted to talk to him on the way out. There weren't too many animals out here, the forest being little more than a cheerful collection of pine groves where people could picinic. Frustrated, head reeling from what he'd known all along but had been stupid enough to ignore, Logan shoved his claws out between his knuckles and ripped into the closest tree he could reach. It was a pine, a stumpy little tree with verdant green foliage and bark that was deeply rutted. The wood tore at Logan's hands as he shoved the adamantium blades into the trunk all the way up to his knuckles, yanking down with a growl and making his knuckles bleed. The tree groaned softly in protest, branches waving in the gentle wind. Wolverine was nearly silent, claws buried deep in the black bark, but a keen ear would hear the curses on his breath.

Three more pines suffered in this way before Logan felt calm enough to go back. Calm enough, that was, not to throw something at Kitty again. Had he scared her off? He hoped not. He wasn't mad at her--in fact, he should have been grateful. He'd asked for it, anyway, and she'd given him just what he'd been looking for.

God help her if she watched the cassettes with him.

Logan jogged back to the mansion, fully aware that he'd probably just screwed himself over by running off like he had. How long had he been outside? Fifteen minutes? An hour? It didn't matter. He fully intended to give this thing another go.

And now he'd have to buy a new lock.

He came back inside and sniffed Kitty out, coming to lean against the wall in front of her when he found her again. He was an inch shorter than her, even more than that at the moment because he was slouching, and he had his hands tucked away in his pockets. The movements were subconscious, unplanned, but apologetic even in his bulk. He'd never say he was sorry to her face, unless he was joking, but somehow this was okay.

Logan kept his mouth shut, glaring up at her from under heavy brows even though he was not trying to look angry. He waited for her to talk, not willing to crack the silence himself, while he listened and sniffed and tested the waters for the dramatic reaction he was sure would come.

[katherinepryde]

Logan barged out the door and Kitty held herself still on his bed, hearing the thundering stomps out the front hall and muted crashes of trees falling. He needed his time away, she understood the animal in him. So, Kitty stayed. It was best to give Logan his room to fume, he needed that. She wasn't so foolish to think that he might want her to follow, no, he preferred to resort to his lone wolf instincts and destroy to protect himself. She understood this much better than most people and so she sat.

An hour past by and she drew her knees up to her chest to wrap her arms around them. Resting her chin on her knees, she sighed. Doubt shadowed her decision to gather the information for him, but she threw it off. Kitty knew he wanted to know, though it was so horrible a truth. He needed to know what happened to him. But he'd not gotten through the entire stack, the truths of some things were still waiting, like Kayla Silverfox and who Sabertooth was to him. The chill up her spin reminded her that she was still in danger, what if they sent the beast Sabertooth after her? She knew he wasn't dead, she'd seen him in the files. He was alive and working under the government for random assignments that needed his claws and powerful, fear-inducing tactics.

Wrapped in her thoughts, she suddenly picked up on Logan's close footsteps and looked up as he stood in the door framed, staring at her from beneath those heavy eyebrows. She watched him as he watched her. The silence settled over them and she understood that he was not the one to break it. It would be her.

Kitty shoved her chestnut hair back form her face and took a deep breath. "Do you regret me giving you the information?" She fixed her soft, brown eyes on him and waited. Logan, her mentor, her friend, her father and her peer-Kitty cared for him deeply. But Logan could never allow himself the same luxury, not that he didn't care for her, she knew. But showing what was important to him meant others would try to rip it away from him.

[silence]

Logan didn't regret that Kitty had brought him the information. On the contrary he appreciated it, however grudgingly, and respected the small girl all the more for getting it. His expression said what he was thinking before his voice could confirm it, his head snapping up and a frown of disagreement stretching his features. "I don't regret it," he growled. "It's just not what I'd've expected."

He still stood against the wall, not moving, looking her up and down with a calculating eye. He trusted her, both because she was a kid and because she'd given him reason to, but this was new territory. He had no idea what was on the tapes or in the folders. He'd already had one wild surprise; what other horrors would these things reveal?

Logan wasn't sure whether Kitty intended to stay and watch the tapes with him or not. If that was what she was planning on doing, he wasn't sure he would let her. What had been filmed? He could imagine any number of terrible things that might not be best for a teenager to see--and first in his mind was the tank. Stryker's tank.

He figured he'd never shake those nightmares away.

But the concern for Pryde's innocence was far down Logan's mental list. He figured people found what they looked for; if she wanted to watch, then he'd be the last one to tell her not to. Plus, she'd been on Chuck's team for a good while now. She'd done battle more than once. And while Logan doubted the innocence of any teenager, he definitely doubted hers.

No, Wolverine wasn't worrying about her; he was much more concerned for himself.

It was unbearably selfish, the way he felt. But it was instinct. He didn't know what was on the videos...and therefore, they couldn't be trusted enough to be watched with someone else. He'd much rather keep control over what was his, so he could decide if it was safe to show her or not...that is, safe for him. It was an urge to protect his own survival, no matter how inappropriate that might be.

And then it occurred to him: was he too late to keep her in the dark?

He'd seen her cringe, just a little, when she'd pointed out the cassettes. Though that may have been a reaction to something glimpsed on a paper, Logan sincerely doubted it. That explanation didn't make a lick of sense.

He went over and picked up one of the videos from where it had fallen on his bed. Rewinded, so no hint there. He flipped it over, giving it a cursory glance before leaning closer and giving the corner a quick sniff.

Government, of course. A distinct lack of sunlight's deep-penetrating warmth. Kitty, too, and some blood, though neither of those things were embedded very deep. There was a little food, too--beef? Hamburger?--that Logan noticed at the last second, more than a little surprised.

So. No clues there.

Wolverine raised one suspicious eyebrow at Pryde, questioning her before the question was asked. "You watch this?" His voice was a growl, but not an intentional one...if she 'd seen the videos, then what was done was done.

Whatever the answer, he still wasn't keen on sharing her company.

[katherinepryde]

Kitty watched him sniff the cassette, knowing he'd find traces of everyone that had touched the damned thing. One, included the overweight security guard she'd knocked out to take what she had needed. His burger and fries had drawn her attention to the keys on the keyboard. She remembered smiling and staring at the keys, covered in grease and hamburger fat. It had been too easy to guess what keys had been pressed with fat, sausage fingers again and again for the codes.

Bringing up the memories of her sneaking into the place reminded her of Stryker's face, his appraisal, his disgusting thoughts as she phased into him.

"No point in lying to you, you'll just smell it on me." She sighed and shoved the memories back, trying not to cringe. "Yes, I've seen them." Nevermind the idea that she'd watched them multiple times. She did the same thing every time she saw a horror movie, she had to watch it more than four times to numb herself to it. Though, with some, like Paranormal Activity or Dawn of the Dead, she'd never grown numb enough- like Logan's tapes. She was smart to have rewound the tapes, but foolish to believe that Logan might have not noticed she would have done so.

Kitty shoved her hands in her pockets consciously, the gloves on her hands, a pair she'd borrowed from Rogue, hid the gauze and still-healing wound on her right palm. It stung irritatingly at being forced into her pocket but she stifled the cringe. Her memory of the base flew up again.

She had found the room in the security tapes, the room with the large tank on the middle of the floor. The water had been blue tinted, a chemical that aided in keeping wounds open. The x-rays on the walls were devastating. Not only Logan's sets of triple claws, but some with two, others with long swords. Some with spikes out of the skull. Kitty had gasped and backed up fast, her hands out and something sharp had caught her hand. It had been a row of adamantium claws position in their sheathes next to the tank, ready to be instilled in the next victim. Her hand had bled for hours after that, though she had wrapped it in an unused lab coat she'd found hanging in the hall. How she was going to explain her leather glove cut nearly in half to the Professor, she hadn't figured out yet, but she'd think of something.

"You never told Rogue to stay when she was going to leave. You said you weren't her father, remember?" Kitty stared at him, determined, leaning far on the edge of the bed. She couldn't send her away, it wouldn't have been fair and she'd already seen the tapes too many times to count. She still had nightmares, her teddy bear choked to death every night. "You said you were her friend. I made the choice to go get these, I did. I'm not a child, I'm grown and I make my own choices. I'll be silent, it would be..." She tried for words, trying to make sure she could find something to talk him into letting her stick around. "It would be as if I didn't exist in this single moment. Like I wasn't here. Just....watch the tapes. Please?" She let her brown eyes soften a bit, unable to help it when she looked at Logan, someone she cared so much for.

[silence]

Logan scented her discomfort, watched her squirm as she spoke. He could smell her adrenaline, but also her determination...she wanted to stay so much, and her chocolate eyes begged from him, pleading with him even after all the words had been said. He looked back at the cassette in his hand, unsure...she was right, it didn't matter, especially because she had watched them. It didn't change a thing what he did. He cursed to himself and stepped to the T.V., shoving the tape in with more force than was really necessary. He walked back to the other side of the room but didn't sit on the bed, his eyes piercing hers in silent warning before he settled down with his back against the wall and began to watch.

The film looked like it had been taken from a corner of the room, over the edge of some kind of railed platform. The footage was dead still and black-and-white...a security camera, fixed to the wall. Five men stood on the platform, their backs to the camera as they watched the goings-on below. Logan registered these things quickly, his eyes flicking around the edges of the screen before settling on the middle...on the tank, the tank where he'd left that other bitch with her fingernail claws, pumped her full of adamantium and let her sink to the bottom. This time it was him in there, naked, restrained, dogtags around his neck and medico lines black against his skin.

Logan frowned, eyes narrow despite the relative clarity of the film. He didn't have adamantium yet in this tape, did he? None, not even on his claws. He was clean...human. More human than he'd ever been. Unaware that he'd still be having nightmares about that day for decades to come.

He'd had no idea, and he'd volunteered for the whole thing.

A growl, so quiet that it was almost nonexistent, rumbled up from his chest, remnants of his anger making him restless. He knew what was coming, from his point of view at least, and he didn't like the anticipation that came with that knowledge. At least now he'd get a chance to see what was a dream and what had been reality.

A few barked commands from one man, and a person on level with the tank pressed a button.

Logan could remember that moment...that very moment, when he'd heard the echo of the button being depressed through the liquid. He'd had half a second to comprehend just what was coming for him before the electricity zapped the machinery to life, and the needles twirling above him had come diving down.

The needles lowered themselves into the tank with point-blank precision. They were made of adamantium too, and they were designed to cut straight to the bone. He heard his snarling on the T.V., saw himself thrashing, his growls getting louder and louder and then...he was silent.

A machine was whining, ringing the single-toned tune of death. He could remember it burning his ears. Keeping him awake. Somehow he'd known that if he let go, he'd wake up under Stryker's unquestionable command. And he wouldn't let himself be controlled by yet another human being.

Never. Never again.

The men shifted nervously on the platform, obviously shocked. He'd died...they'd just witnessed his death, as he'd been held under the water with the restraints, the oxygen tube floating above him. He'd been unable to hold onto it in his violent struggles, unable to keep breathing as he tried to stop himself from unsheathing his claws. This was good. He needed to stay in the tank...and though he couldn't remember why, he'd held onto that knowledge with an iron fist. It had helped him stay alive.

And then a ping from the machine. And then two. And then three, and four, that number rising even as others fell. The tank was steaming, though the camera was far enough away not to become blurred by the fog.

"Should we take him to the island?"

"No. Bonding works. We take his DNA for the eleventh. Erase his memory."

"Erase his memory."

The rage had boiled down his limbs, the hot metal adding kindling for the flames as he listened to their plans. He could hear them, even though he could feel that his organs were being roasted by his white-hot ribs, his brain boiling in his skull. And his anger was ferocious, incredible, more than he'd ever had before. He had to get out.

The claws scraped across his new bones with a quiet snikt.

He struggled in the tank...though it looked futile, his body was roasted, and the meat slid off his bones with more ease than it ever had as he pulled his arms from the restraints. He cut through the metal holding his torso down, slicing all the way through the steel, the resistance barely noticeable. And then he was out of the water, roaring, blood and water dripping from his extended claws as his arms slowly healed.

Panic ensued on the platform.

One man flipped a gun out and caught him in the forehead, but the bullet ricocheted off his skull with a resounding clang and headed in the opposite direction. Logan's head was forced backwards, but he snarled ferociously as he turned to look back at the marksman. The skin was already sealing cleanly over its adamantium base.

And then he was out, killing two soldiers that had come to restrain him in one long stroke. They didn't have time to draw their guns. Several more came, streaming in, but Wolverine had already gotten away through a metal door to the back of the room. The men streamed out after him, their boots scuffling across the floor as they rushed after their renegade Weapon X.

The survivors stood on the platform, completely still in the wake of their shock. It had not gone as planned. The man was not supposed to be that strong after his surgery. It didn't make sense.

They hadn't made any calculations for the animal.