More than one by LaLunaBlu

A/N: Okay, guys. This is my first fanfic, so try not to slash me too bad! I would like constructive criticism though...

Chapter one: Dreams


I woke up with a start. The nightmares had gradually gotten worse over the past few weeks. All of the screaming, blood, and water. I had gotten stronger, though. The other day, I fell down a flight of stairs and cut open my thigh. The gash healed in less than a minute.

There is one peculiar thing in my nightmares. It feels as if someone else is there, in my dream. Like, someone is watching me from afar, I just don't know who. Also, it doesn't feel like a dream, but a memory. It's as if I don't remember it. That and everything else up to twelve years ago. I just woke up in a hospital one day, not knowing what was going on, where I was, who I was. All that I had to remind me of anything was a dog tag that said Rose.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts and got out of bed. I took a quick shower, got dressed, and put on a light layer of makeup. I had to leave my house by eight to avoid John. I didn't love him anymore, and I felt trapped. I knew if I told him this in person, he'd be pissed. Probably go get drunk, find a quick hook up, and then come back to me in the morning, crying on about how sorry he was, and if baby, could I get him a sandwich. I just left a note instead.


I'm leaving. Not temporarily, but for good. I don't know how else to say it, but it seems like we don't fit. My future is somewhere else, somewhere away from you and your expensive stuff. Goodbye Rose.

I know he'll be pissed when he finds the note. I had to make a quick getaway. I hopped into my car, and drove away. When I got to the edge of town, I thought about where I would go. I've always wanted to go to Canada, travel to the woods, go camping. Just roughing it for a few days. So I turned north and made my way towards Canada to start my journey.


I woke up covered in a cold sweat. I'd been having the same dream for weeks now. It was always the same thing- pain, metal, blood, and a tank of water. But this time the dream was different. I saw someone else, a young woman in a tank of water next to me. I was confused. Why would she be there? She was regular, if not beautiful. The woman had long dark hair, past the small of her back, with dark blue eyes. She wasn't a monster like me. When I saw her in my dream, she looked scared.

I had to get up. I had to get to a bar, to make money. The alcohol had no effect on me anyways. I was there for the cage fights. Sure, sometimes you got the crap kicked out of you, but it was worth the money. I got dressed, packed up my stuff, and drove. It was gunna be a long drive to the next bar. Probably thirty miles, at the least. It was hard, living in Canada, but it gave me a place to hide. My mutations were pretty noticeable. I mean, it's not like you see a guy who can heal himself and has ten inch claws coming out of his hands every day.

That's mostly why I chose the name Wolverine. That and the dog tag I'd had since I lost my memory. I just woke up, in a pile of debris and dust and smoke all around me. A man came running up to me, telling me that we needed to leave. I was confused, scared. I brought out my claws, held them up to his neck. I asked him what my name was, and he said logan. I checked the dog tag, and sure enough, that's what it said on the other side. Plus, the Wolverine name draws attention to the cage fights. Gets me more money.

I always wonder though, are there more like me? I know there are other mutants, nobody can shut up about that. But are there any mutants like me, with claws and healing powers?


I had made it just past the border when I ran out of gas. I had been traveling for a couple of hours, and in that time, John had left me quite a few voice messages, which wasn't unusual. He was always desperate, but he needed to know how to move on. Im also guessing that some of the messages were about the missing money from his safe at his house. But I needed the money for hitchhiking. After about an hour of holding out my thumb, a semi pulled over.

"Where to, miss?" he asked me.

I needed a drink. "To the nearest bar, please."

"Okay," he said, "but I need to warn ya, it gets pretty rough. They have cage fights there."

"I think I can handle it." I hopped up into the cab, buckled up, and then the man drove away."

When we got to the bar, the trucker woke me up. I must've been sleeping pretty hard, because the man had to shake me to wake me up. Of course, when he did that, it scared the life out of me and I almost stabbed him. I was having the same nightmare, the one about the pain, but this time, it was different. There was also a man there. He had dark brown hair with spikes in the front, and soft brown eyes. But the eyes were filled with an expression far from what they were meant to hold. They were filled with hate, deep, dark, hatred. For what or who, I could not imagine. I tried to scream to get his attention, his help. But he just screamed back, probably because of the many tubes sticking out of him. That of course, was when the trucker woke me up. Damn, just perfect timing, one of those times you didn't want to be saved from your nightmares so you could see further in. I jumped out of the truck and the man drove off. Before I went into the bar, I brought my claws out, then promptly brought them back in. I watched as the fresh wounds on my hands started to seal back together, healing themselves. I walked through the door, and gasped at what I saw. There, was the man in my dreams. I could walk up to him and ask him about it, but he might think I was crazy. I would have to wait to ask him if I did choose to anyways, because he was cage fighting.


I was making money today! Already five fights, all of them won, and a hundred bucks behind each. That was enough to get me to the next town and buy me supplies, so I walked up to the announcer in the ring.

"I'm done," I said.

"You're not done until I say you're done." That bastard. "Will you let this man walk away with your money?" he yelled as he turned back to the crowd. "who shall fight the Mighty Wolverine?"

"I'll fight him!" yelled a man from the crowd. He walked through the stands until he was down in the ring. He took his shirt off for effect, then hit me in the jaw. I fell over, and he started to kick me in the chest. He did this over and over for a while, the stopped to take a breath. In that time, I slowly stood up and started to heal. The guy tried to throw a punch, but I blocked it with another punch. Our hands met, and I could feel his bones break under the pressure. He abruptly pulled his hand back and shook it, trying to get rid of the pain. I gave him a little smirk and then punched him in the gut. I did this over and over, until he fell over, knocked out cold. My victory was met with more boos and jeers from the crowd, but I didn't care. It was just more money for me.

When I was finally done fighting and out of the ring, the bar was almost empty. There were only drunks left, passed out on the mismatched furniture. The only real person I saw was a young woman at the bar. She had been watching the fights, no, me fighting, the whole night. She looked familiar, but I didn't know why. I walked up to the bar and sat down next to her. She looked at me with interest.

"Do I know you?" I asked her as the bartender handed me a beer and cigar.

"I'm not sure," she said, a smile playing at her lips. "It depends on your dreams."

That was where I had seen her. The girl in my dream. I was about to tell her, but I sensed someone behind me. I turned around, and there was the man from the ring.

"You owe me some money," he growled.

"I don't owe you anything," I said back. "you lost, so you don't get the money. And if you don't start walkin', you'll be missing more some more than money." I took a swig of my beer.

"I know what you are," he said. "nobody walks away from a fight like that without a mark to show it." Suddenly, the girl screamed.

"Look out!" I spun around, and the guy had pulled out a knife. Before I knew it, I felt my animal instinct kicking in. I felt my claws coming out, and I pushed him up against the closest wall. I held my claws up to his neck, the middle one almost piercing the skin right below his Adam's apple.

"I. Don't. Owe. You. Anything." I growled in a deep voice. "Am I clear?" After I said this, I felt the barrel of a gun against the back of my head. I slowly turned my head, and I saw the bartender holding a rifle.

"We don't like your kind around here," he said in a slow drawl. Well shit. How was I going to get out of this mess? I mean, I could survive anything, but I really didn't feel like getting my brains blown out of my head today.