10-03-15, Reformatted.

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men and am receiving no momentary compensation for the writing of this story.
Timeline: I'm not really sure when I think this story takes place; sometime after the movie but before Logan goes traipsing across the countryside looking for his past, if that makes any sense.




"A friend is one who knows all about you and likes you anyway." -- Christi Mary Warner

Logan wanted to hit something. He didn't really care what, so long as it hit back and hit back hard. He got these urges every now and then- he just went berserk. Trying to suppress them never worked; that usually resulted in an inevitable explosion in which he did more damage than if he had just let go at first. Before, he had never cared enough about where he was to try and hold back, but now- here- he didn't want to hurt these people who had done so much to help him.

Walking down the hall he almost ran over some kids. Keeping from mauling them where they stood took as much control as he could manage. He knew he had to get out of here- get out before he hurt someone. Before someone got killed. He headed toward the garage without another thought. He would take Cyke's bike and split. He could explain later- if ever. It wasn't something he wanted to talk about, even with the Professor.

Logan rounded a corner and ran smack into Scott, who was leaning against the wall almost as if he had been waiting for him. Logan sighed- Scott had that look on his face. The one that meant he was feeling like the leader today and was all set to meddle in someone else's business.

"Not now," Logan brushed past him with a growl.

And suddenly found himself lying on his back on the ground. He blinked. Scott leaned over him with a grin. "Yes now."

The rage was welling up in Logan now, and he couldn't stop it, though he tried with all he had in him. A cloud fell down over his eyes; he was back on his feet quicker than he remembered thinking about it and lashed out at Cyclops with a strained growl. A distant part of his brain was surprised when his fists connected with the metal wall instead of flesh, but before he could reason this he found himself lifted up and thrown through a doorway.

His maddened eyes recognized the Danger Room and Cyclops walking toward him. He fought for control one last time. "No! Scott,get out of here. Get away from me..."

"'Fraid that's not going to happen." The last thing he saw before the lights went out was Cyclops standing a few feet from where he crouched. The kid wanted to play around? Fine. The rage beckoned. He gave in totally.

Logan threw himself at the place where Scott had been standing. He connected with empty air. Fists came out of nowhere to pummel his back. Screaming he whirled to grab his assailant, claws slid out from his clenched fists, but once again he came up with nothing. This continued for almost an hour. Logan lashed out continually but never once did he manage to get a hold on Cyclops, who pounded him endlessly.

Crouched down, Logan caught his breath after a particularly vicious assault which had once again earned him nothing but a couple well-placed punches. Even his remarkable body was reaching its limits. Reason began to filter into his mind, pushing out the madness. He realized that somehow Scott could see him, when he couldn't even see the glow from Scott's visor. The lights must not be off- someone, probably the Professor, was making him think that the room was shrouded in darkness. He concentrated a moment- he could hear Scott's soft breathing, his careful footsteps, and the rustling of his clothes against his body; he could smell him... right over there! Logan dived and- finally- caught him. The room lightened, and he looked down into Scott's grinning face. "Well, I guess you got me."

Something clicked inside Logan. Scott knew- had known all along. He had deliberately provoked him into this fight so he could blow off steam. Logan just sat there staring. "Do you mind?" He jerked his mind back to the present- his eyes refocused on the man under him. Scott smiled patronizingly. "You're a big boy, Logan. Do you mind getting off Daddy's lap?" Logan cuffed him for good measure, but complied. Standing, he regarded the other man. Their eyes met, and many things were understood that never could have been said.

"Thanks," was all Logan could manage.

"Anytime." He got that look on his face again. "Hey, it's my job." The look faded to be replaced with a very different one. "And my pleasure- to help out a friend."


Logan sat on the roof, the wind gently playing with his hair and teasing down the back of his shirt. He could not remember anyone, ever, caring enough about him or how he felt to put themselves in a position where they could be hurt. People feared him- his power and seeming invulnerability both physically and emotionally. They ran from him, and he told himself he enjoyed it; because there was nothing else he had to enjoy. This friend thing was so new to him- he wondered if it was something he really wanted to get used to.

" Logan?" He looked up to see Rogue sliding slowly down from the peak of the roof to where he was sitting. She looked terrified to be up here, but when her eyes met his he saw a look in them that he had recently become familiar with- concern. She smiled tentatively at him as he put an arm around her shivering shoulders to keep the wind off. "Are you okay?" He almost couldn't keep from laughing. He squeezed her shoulders softly. This caring about people thing was definitely going to work out.

"Yeah, kid. I'm gonna be all right."


"There's lots of kinds of chains... You can't see most of them, the ones that bind folks together. But people build them, link by link... Chains bind us, whether we want them to or not. But a heart without chains would have nothing to hold it, might simply blow away." -- Bruce Coville