**15.30 GMT-5, 22 June 2000, Westchester County, NY, USA.**
LOGAN
Logan's eyes snapped open, his senses screaming. Sterile white walls. The hum of machines. Wrong. With a snarl, he ripped the IV from his arm and was on his feet in a fluid, predatory motion.
"Sugar?" Marie's voice cut through his haze. She was already sitting up in the adjacent bed, disoriented but alert. "My head... the kids... where–?"
Before she could finish, the door hissed open. A red-haired woman in a lab coat stepped inside. "Whoa! You're awake!"
It was a mistake. In a flash, Logan had her pinned against the wall, his forearm against her throat, his other fist poised, claws itching to spring.
"Where the hell are our children?" he growled, the scent of her fear sharp in his nostrils.
The woman gasped, struggling for air. Marie was at Logan's side in an instant, her eyes blazing. "Talk. Now."
The woman managed a choked sound, but the pressure was too much. Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp in Logan's grasp.
"Shit," Logan muttered, lowering her gently to the floor. He'd forgotten his own strength.
"No time for regrets," Marie snapped, already at the door. "Let's go."
They moved like ghosts through the sterile halls, their instincts screaming. A slightly ajar cabinet revealed rows of black-and-yellow uniforms.
Where are you going?
Logan and Marie froze, their eyes meeting. The voice was in their heads.
"Did you hear that?" Logan growled, his senses on a knife's edge.
"Yeah," Marie whispered, her gaze darting down the hall. "I don't like this."
This way, the voice nudged, gentle but insistent, guiding them left, then right, subtly herding them toward an elevator.
The doors opened onto a sun-drenched corridor. Large windows revealed sprawling lawns. The murmur of lessons and the clatter of young voices echoed from classrooms. They are in some kind of a school.
They slipped outside, the fresh air doing little to calm their nerves. They moved with stealth, avoiding a group of laughing teenagers.
"This a school?" Marie hissed.
"Looks like it," Logan grunted, his every instinct telling him to run.
In here.
The psychic pull led them to a classroom where a bald man in a wheelchair was dismissing a group of students. "...definitions of weak and strong anthropic principles by Wednesday."
As the last student filed out, the man turned a calm gaze upon them. "Physics, I'm Charles Xavier. Would you both like some lunch?" He held up a physics textbook as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Marie took a step forward, her body coiled tight. "Where are we? And what's going on?"
"Westchester, New York," Xavier replied smoothly. "You were attacked. My team brought you here for medical attention."
Logan's eyes narrowed to slits. "We don't need medical attention."
"Of course," Xavier conceded, unfazed.
The door slid open again. A man with a gleaming red visor and a woman whose white hair seemed to crackle with latent energy entered. The tension in the room spiked.
"Logan, Marie, I'd like you to meet Ororo Munroe, also known as Storm," Xavier gestured to the woman, "And this is Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops." He gestured to the man, who extended his hand to Logan and Marie. Neither of them responded, still on high alert and distrustful.
"They saved your lives," Xavier said, his voice gentle, though he looked a little bit puzzled by their wariness.
Logan just scoffed at him.
The woman they had attacked earlier walked into the room, looking slightly disoriented. "Professor! They--" She said before realizing Logan and Marie where there.
"And I believe you've already met Dr. Jean Grey. You're in my school for the gifted–"
Marie cut him off, her voice tinged with skepticism. "What kind of school?"
"A school for mutants," Xavier explained. "Here, you'll be safe here from Magneto."
"What's a Magneto?" Logan's voice was rough with confusion.
"A very powerful mutant who believes that a war is brewing between mutants and the rest of humanity," Xavier explained again. "I've been following his activities for some time. The man who attacked you both is an associate of his, called Sabertooth."
"Sabertooth?" Logan echoed, then continued, "So let me get this straight, this one is Storms, Cyclops? and what do they call you? Wheels? This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"Logan, focus! Our kids… Did you bring our kids here?"
"Are our kids here?" Logan's voice was low and dangerous. "We had three children with us."
Summers's face fell. He exchanged a guilty look with Grey and Storm. "The car... it was destroyed in the fight. There was an explosion. We... we didn't see anyone else." His voice was thick with regret. "I'm sorry. We thought you were the only ones."
Logan took a threatening step forward, a growl rumbling in his chest. "THE FUCK YOU SAYING?"
Marie's hand shot out, gripping Logan's arm. "Calm down, sugar. Ah sent Ken and Laura to find Wade. They're at least okay, Wade knows what he was doing. We'll see them soon." Her voice was firm, but her eyes betrayed her own fear. She was trying to convince herself as much as him.
"You know that's exactly why I worried about…"
"Have a little faith on our son sugar,"
A heavy, uncomfortable silence filled the room. Summers, Grey, and Storm stood stiffly, the weight of their oversight pressing down on them. The X-Men's faces were etched with dawning guilt.
Then Marie suddenly breaks the silence by pointing at the TV in the room.
"Logan, look!"
"Breaking news! A high-speed pursuit is underway on I-95, with police chasing a sedan reported stolen just hours ago. Authorities confirm the vehicle is being operated by masked juveniles, and the situation has escalated dangerously–reports indicate the suspects have now begun firing shots at the pursuing officers. The chase is continuing southbound, with all agencies urging the public to avoid the area."
The broadcast zoomed in on the driver's face who was shooting at the police. The face of what looks like a teenager in a red and black mask that is awfully familiar for Logan and Marie.
The broadcast suddenly ended with the shot of the said masked teenager and his two siblings who also wear a mask leaping into the news helicopter's camera.
Logan instantly put both of his hands in his face. "That fucking idiot..."
Marie let out a shaky breath of relief, her hand coming to rest on Logan's back. "Hey, at least they're okay, sugar."
RIIIIING. RIIIIING. RIIIIING.
The classroom telephone suddenly started ringing as the broadcast suddenly got interrupted. Storm moved to answer it, her movements slow, as if reluctant to break the moment. "Xavier Mansion... Yes, he's here. Who is this?" She listened, then her eyes widened slightly. "Yeah, he's here." she repeated, looking at Charles as she put the phone on speaker.
"Yo! Hello there, Chuck!" A familiar scratchy boyish voice greeted them. "See, haven't I already told you to leave me and my family alone when you tried to enter my mind with your mind stalker machine before! We really don't wanna join your little boyband! It's not even a music boyband–at least that one generates money! So, when I get to your mansion, I expect you to not enter my parents' minds, and that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will blow up your fucking mansion! TWICE! Capiche? Muach!"
"Isn't that from Taken?" a younger voice quipped. "You took it from Taken aren't you? Cringe."
"Well, yeah, but I sound cool, right? Hey, watch out, keep it stabilized! We don't do Chopper's crash until the end!"
"Hey! don't look at me like that! This is my first time flying a helicopter!"
"I told you, it's just like video games! see!"
"Just–just take the control back!"
"Idiots," a little girl's voice interjected flatly. "I should just leave you both and find Mommy and Daddy myself!"
"Potato fritata! Ups, forgot to cut the phone. Buh-bye! Deadpool out!"
The phone went dead.
Yep. Logan is definitely gonna kill the kid after this.
At least twice.
That kid managed to give him a white hair for a minute there.
Xavier slowly turned from the phone, a look of profound and weary recognition on his face. "So that's who that was," he murmured, massaging his temple as if recalling a particularly persistent headache.
All eyes swiveled to Logan and Marie.
"Well, so that's our kids, alright…" Marie stated, her voice a mixture of sheer exhaustion and a little bit of a pride.
Summers stared, his mouth agape. Grey looked from the screen to the parents, a new understanding dawning. Storm simply raised an elegant eyebrow.
Logan finally lowered his hand from his face, a grim, resigned look in his eyes. "Yeah… before you ask, they always like this…"
A sudden distinctive thwump-thwump-thwump of a helicopter rotor grew rapidly louder outside, descending upon the Xavier mansion with menacing intent. Logan, Marie, and the X-Men rushed to the windows, just in time to see the news helicopter perform a shaky, entirely unnecessary loop-the-loop.
"IS THAT A BIRD? IS THAT A PLANE? IS THAT SUPERMAN?" a magnified, boyish voice echoed from the mansion's speakers, followed by the distinct sound of children's laughter. "NO, IT'S MARVEL JESUS, Y'ALL!"
The helicopter then performed a second, even more precarious loop before its nose suddenly dipped, plunging toward the earth in a way that was clearly not part of the show.
"Well, that wasn't supposed to happen," Wade's voice commented, remarkably calm.
"THE FUCK!"
"I KNEW THIS WAS A FUCKING BAD IDEA, WADE!" Ken's voice screamed back, laced with pure terror.
"IT'S NOT MY FAULT THE TV CREW DIDN'T FILL THE TANK FULL! HOLD ON TIGHT!"
"WE COULD'VE LANDED SAFELY IF YOU DIDN'T TRY THOSE FUCKING STUNTS!"
"THEY WERE FUCKING COOL, OKAY?!"
"FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!" Laura shrieked.
A unified "AAAAHHHH!" was the last thing heard before the helicopter smashed into the center of the sprawling lawn with a ground-shaking CRUMP and a ball of fire. Gasps and screams erupted from the students.
Scott, several older students, Logan, and Marie burst out of the mansion, sprinting towards the burning wreckage. Before they could get close, a bizarre sound cut through the chaos.
The mansion's external speaker system crackled to life, and the opening notes of Madonna's Like a Prayer began to swell across the grounds.
Through the shimmering heat haze and the flames, three figures walked out of the inferno in perfect, dramatic slow-motion.
Their faces were visibly burned, flesh still knitting itself back together at a rapid pace.
Wade was in the lead, his tattered red-and-black hoodie smoldering, a smirk visible in his eyes even beneath his mask. He casually tugged at the fingers of his glove with the refined air of someone fixing a cufflink.
Behind him, Ken brushed embers from his jacket with a scowl, and Laura strode out with unbothered grace with a shot gun on her shoulder, as if she had simply emerged from a particularly annoying fog.
The music soared as they took a few impossibly cool steps away from the wreck.
"He has risen, baby girl!" Wade declared cheerfully. "This is why I love Madonna!"
"I'll never fly a helicopter with you again..." Ken grumbled, the slow-motion effect breaking as he shoved Wade's shoulder.
"Pussy," Wade retorted, shoving him back.
"Why, you–!"
The facade shattered instantly. In a blur of motion, the two brothers were a tangle of limbs, their adamantium claws SNIKT-ing out and promptly getting lodged in each other's heads, shoulders and ribs, locking them together in a grunting, snarling stalemate.
"MOMMY! DADDY!" Laura ignored the scuffle on her back and sprinted across the grass, launching herself into Marie's waiting arms while abandoning the shot gun she held.
Marie caught her daughter, holding her tight and raining kisses on her head while her eyes scanned for injuries. Logan let out a long, world-weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand years. He strode over to the knotted ball of furious sons.
"Alright, that's enough," he growled, wedging his hands between them. He grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and, with a grunt of effort, pried them apart. The sound of sliding adamantium grated in the sudden quiet. "What did I say about brawling in front of the others?"
Ken, dangling from Logan's grip, shot his brother a look. "Why is he always treating us like fucking cats?"
Wade, similarly suspended, shrugged as best he could. "I dunno. Are wolverines a cat? His hair do be looking like cat ears but I'm pretty sure we're canines, right? No, wait, yeah! Sabertooth is the cat one. Wolverine is the dog one! Hey Dad! You should have started treating us like dogs!"
"That is not what I mean! That's worse!"
"Really? I kinda enjoyed A Dog's Purpose but Stray is more of my jam, love Jamie Foxx on that! Also that means we are distantly related to Snoop Dog!"
"You are nuts…"
"I love you too, lil bro!"
Logan's eye twitched. Without another word, he turned and began marching back towards the mansion, dragging his two squabbling sons behind him like a pair of kittens, leaving the entire Xavier Institute in stunned, bewildered silence.
From the crowd of gathered students, a voice piped up, "What the hell just happened?"
"It's a miracle the mansion is still standing..."
"Who are they, Mr. Summers?"
Summers slowly removed his visor to rub his eyes, heaving a sigh of profound exhaustion.
"My new fucking headache..."
"LANGUAGE!"