"This is where we're staying?" Bobby Drake asked as he and his companions entered through the lobby doors.

"Yup," Hank McCoy replied.

"Jean, you should probably be telepathically masking our appearance," Clark Kent said.

"One step ahead of you," Jean Grey replied.

"It's so fancy," Sarah Da'Part commented, looking around at the ornate decorations.

"A little too fancy," Morph said, jokingly.

The mysterious man named Wolverine said nothing. He merely followed.

Clark cleared his throat as he approached the main desk. "I believe a suite was reserved for us by a Mister Worthington III."

"Group of seven?" the lady behind the desk asked.

"Yup," Clark nodded.

"Any luggage you need brought up?"

"We can handle it," Clark shrugged.

"Okay. Here's your keycard. The room's on the top floor. Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks," Clark smiled politely, accepting the card. He motioned with his head for the group to follow him to the elevator.

"Like it woulda hurt you to get a bellhop to carry our luggage," Bobby frowned.

"Like there's so much of it," Clark replied. "We've each only got about a bag or suitcase. We can manage."

They all stepped into the elevator quietly and waited as it began its slow trek up to the top floor. About halfway there, it came to a stop and the doors opened, with more people trying to get on.

"We're full, bub," Wolverine said, hitting the close doors button. "Better catch the next one."

The people just looked at him strangely and then shrugged. The elevator resumed.

"What kinda face are you givin' me, Red?" Wolverine asked.

"Something that won't frighten the other people here," she replied.

A short while later, the elevator came to a stop again, this time at their desired floor. They stepped off into the hallway. Clark led them down to a corner suite. He did a quick pass of the suite with his X-ray vision. Being a mutant had taught him to always be cautious, even if it seemed like paranoia. Once he accepted the room was clear, he slid the keycard in and opened the door.

It didn't open.

He tried again. Nothing.

"It's not . . . " he started.

"Here," Jean said, taking it. "Look, you need to insert it, pull out, and then open."

She opened the door easily.

"Just need to start reading instructions there, Clarky," Morph grinned.

They all stepped inside slowly. The suite was indeed sweet.

"Now, this is living," Bobby grinned.

"Haven't seen a place this nice . . . ever," Wolverine frowned.

"Well, after that battle with the Avengers League," Hank started, "I know I could use a dip in the pool."

"Sounds good to me," Bobby said.

"I'm gonna go down and have a smoke," Wolverine said, walking out the door.

"He's a nice one," Morph said. The other four all headed out after him to go swimming in the indoor pool, leaving Clark and Jean alone.

"He looks an awful lot like Death," Clark frowned.

"That guy who was an agent of a God?" Jean asked. "I guess . . . especially with the claws. But I did a brief mindscan of him after the fight with the League. He's definitely not. After all, Death is dead."

Clark nodded. "Just saying. Maybe it was a sign of some sort? That we're not supposed to trust him? After all, he did just appear . . . we know absolutely nothing about him."

"Then we'll ask him," Jean shrugged. "Simple as that."

Clark nodded again. "I suppose."

"Hot stuff, comin' through!" Morph yelled as he leapt into the pool. Just before hitting he shifted, increasing his mass. When he hit, he caused a giant splash, soaking everyone else in the pool. "Teehee."

"Now my hair's gonna smell like chlorine," Sarah frowned.

"Complain complain complain," Bobby said. "Lighten up, Sarah. Relax and have fun."

"He's right, my dear," Hank said with a grin. "After all we've been through these past few days, we definitely deserve this."

Wolverine watched them from outside. There they were, having fun. And he was standing outside, smoking. He was alone. That's how he always was. How he liked it.

Right . . . ?

He shook his head. This was just another pit stop, another place to spend the night . . . maybe a place to even let his guard down for an evening. Then he'd keep on moving towards his goal.

"And what goal would that be?" Jean asked.

"Stay outta my mind, Red," Wolverine frowned.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I normally don't scan a person without asking permission. But you look like someone we'd fought recently . . . I wanted to be sure you weren't that person. And after I did confirm that, I found something strange."

Wolverine just took another puff of his cigar.

"I can barely read your thoughts," she continued. "Your mind is virtually impenetrable to my telepathy. I was only able to know you had a goal because you were thinking about it that exact second."

"Maybe it's better off if you stay outta my head," he said. "Things in there that might scare a frail like you."

"Frail? Hardly."

Wolverine looked her up and down, then grinned. "Okay, I'll agree t'that."

Jean couldn't help but blush slightly. She looked down to her feet for a moment to get a grip. "So what's your goal?"

"I'm lookin' for something," he replied.

" . . . Something?"

"Name o' Weapon X," he answered. "It's a black ops type group . . . it's where I was . . . before I went off on my own."

"And you want to be with them again?"

"Heck no, darlin'. I want to find that place and kill every man, woman and child involved in it."

"That's pleasant."

"You don't know the half of it," he said quietly. "I don't expect you to understand . . . no one does. I'm a loner. It's what I've been, it's what I'll always be. I'll be outta your hair by morning."

He turned then to walk away. Jean grabbed his hand. He paused.

"Not the smartest move," he frowned. "The claws could've slipped . . . natural reaction."

"I felt I was safe, Wolverine," she said.

"Th' name's Logan."

"Logan."

He turned to look into her eyes for a quick moment. Then, just as quickly, he turned his head and walked away.

In the suite: Clark and Jean shared one room. Sarah took a room to herself. Morph, Bobby, and Hank all split the third room. Logan slept on the couch.

And as he did, his dreams raged.

He could feel the pain. It never left him, really. Being tied down to that cold, metal table, feeling the tubes pumping things into his body. He should have died.

But he didn't. His healing factor kept him alive. It kept him breathing as Adamantium was pumped into his system, bonding to his bones. It kept him alive when razor-sharp, Adamantium-coated claws burst forth from his hands for the first time. His heightened senses were blaring at the pain, at the noise. He realized it was his own screaming.

And through it all, once face watched the process from above . . . from the safety of a control booth. The face was etched in his mind. He would never forget it . . . until he tore the face off the body.

"Raaaaa!" Logan screamed, snapping awake. His claws popped out and he tore through a lamp behind him. His breathing was heavy. His eyes flickered around. He remembered where he was.

Jean walked over to him. "Logan . . . ?"

"Go back to sleep, Red," he said, slowing his breathing. "Just had a bad dream is all."

"I was already up," she said.

"Bad dreams, too, huh?"

"Not exactly," she said. "I was . . . surprisingly enough, worried about you. I don't want you to just leave us in the morning. You helped us out back there against the Avengers League. If you weren't there, we'd probably be in government custody right now. You saved our butts."

"So?"

"So? So, we want to repay the favor. We'll give you a place to stay with us, and in turn, since you fought our battle, we'll fight yours. This Weapon X? We'll help."

"Listen, Jean, I . . . "

"No, you listen. All of us in this hotel? We're here because of one man: Charles Xavier. He had a dream that mutants and humans could live together in peaceful coexistence. Us? We're the X-Men. We're fighting so that his dream can become a reality. You're a mutant, Logan. Join us. Help us with our fight and you'll never have to be alone again!"

"Peaceful coexistence ain't my thing. I'm more the kinda guy who'd cut ya up instead o' talkin' about somethin'."

"I know that's not true. Though I can't scan your mind, I can sense enough to tell me there's more to you than that. Please, at least consider my offer. I want you to stay."

" . . . I'll think it over."

"That's all I ask. I'll . . . go back to bed now. Goodnight, Logan."

" . . . Goodnight."

Jean opened her eyes and looked over at the man sleeping beside her. Clark, she thought. You look so peaceful, not having to worry about our lives for once.

There was a knock on the door. Jean waited to hear if anyone else was up to answer the door. She hear nothing, and did a quick surface scan. No one else was awake.

Jean slid out of the sheets, and walked out of her room, into the main room of the suite. She saw Logan sprawled out on the couch.

He probably heard, but is ignoring it.

Jean finally reached the door, and looked through the peephole. When she saw who it was, she got excited, and quickly opened the door.

"Warren!" she whispered.

"Hi, Jean," Warren replied, giving his old friend a hug. "Did I come too early?"

Jean looked at the clock on the wall. It read ten a.m. "Probably not. We're just all real tired from recent events."

"May I come in?"

"Oh. Sure, sure," Jean answered, stepping aside. "After all, you are footing the bill."

Warren walked into the suite, and put down the bag he was carrying. Jean closed the door.

"Who's that?" Warren asked, looking at Logan.

"He's a new recruit. Goes by the name of Wolverine, but his real name is Logan. He can be trusted."

"I take it that everyone else is still asleep. Tell ya what. I'll fix some breakfast, and you wake everyone up."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Jean replied. She walked back into her room, and gently shook Clark. He stirred.

"Huh?"

"Wake up, lover boy. Warren's here."

"Warren? Now?"

"Yeah. Now get out of bed, and go wake the guys up. I'll get Sarah."

Clark grabbed his robe, and put it on as he walked out. He saw Logan getting off the couch as he crossed the suite.

"Sleep well?" Clark asked.

"Never," Logan replied. "But it wasn't so bad. Actually, th' most comfortable place I've had in a long time."

"Er . . . glad to hear that, Logan."

Logan tensed up. "What did ya call me?"

"Your name is Logan, right?"

Logan nodded apprehensively, but then relaxed. "Jeannie musta tol' ya."

"Yeah, something like that. Uh, I gotta go wake the guys."

The room was perfectly made, as if no one had been there, except for the note on the bed. Jean picked it up and read it. Upon completion, she rushed out, and to the guys' room. They were already coming out, mostly dressed. Clark was standing there as well. She handed the note to him.

"It's Sarah," Morph said. "She left."

Clark nodded. "But she'll be okay. It's what she wanted. C'mon. Let's go eat breakfast."

"Okay, guys," Warren said. "I've been informed of recent events, and well, I think it's time for some change. First, I would like to announce that I have decided to return to the X-Men."

"All right!" Bobby exclaimed. "The old days are back!"

"Maybe," Warren replied. "But nothing will ever be the same. Anyway, as you all know, I am rather wealthy, and will be using that wealth to help you guys out. Currently, a construction company I own is building a mansion, which I will be using for my own personal use, as far as the general public will know."

"But to us, it's the new X-mansion," Morph said.

"Correct. The next thing I want to work on is the team dynamic. I know how difficult communication can be in the middle of the fight. Can't always rely on the telepath. Might be too busy or unconscious. That's why I've gone to the liberty of making these." He pulled out a black leather jacket from his duffel bag and held it up. It was trimmed in gold, and had X's on the collar, cuffs, and one on the chest. "A communication device has been added to this, and it makes a great fashion statement."

"Slammin'!" Bobby whispered.

"A new mansion, and new jackets?" Clark asked. "Thanks, Warren. I knew you'd come through. Only, when will the mansion be completed?"

"It should be done in a few weeks. You can stay here until then."

Clark stood up, and Warren took his seat. "Well, gang," Clark began, "we've come a long way in the past few days, but there are still a few things we have to deal with, including the government and the MRA."

"The Mutant Registration Act?" Warren asked.

"Yeah. What do you know about it?"

"Quite a bit. In fact, just over the past few days, Congress has been investigating some of the people trying to pass that through. And boy, have they turned up some interesting stuff."

"Hmm . . . " Clark pondered. "It might be interesting to check that out. In fact, I know of a government-owned warehouse where Sentinels are believed to be stored."

"Sentinels, eh?" Hank asked. "I've been wanting to study them ever since I heard about 'em."

"And I've wanted to know exactly what their purpose is," Clark added. "That's it, then. We're going to investigate. We leave in the morning."