“Good you two are back,” Pietro acknowledged as both Jaime and Logan closed the break door behind them.
Logan ignored the silvered haired mutant and his sister as he made his way across towards the storage room.
“Hey, Wolverine, where do you think you’re going?” Pietro began. “We need to leave soon and organize...”
“I ain’t one for organizing Speedy Gonzalez so you figure that out on your own while I take a minute and I don’t need your permission,” Logan grated as he opened the storage door and closed it firmly behind him.
Sighing, he listened for a moment to see if any of them would follow but he heard them start talking again. Grabbing a chair he pulled it up in front of the coffin and took a seat as he slowly pulled the package out of his jacket.
Feeling the weight of it in his hands he glanced up at the closed coffin. “I’m gunna assume this is from you Rogue. You’re the only one who ever bothered to send me anything ever,” he whispered quietly. “There better be some god damn answers in here as to why you’re lying in there.”
Ripping the brown package paper off, he was surprised when a familiar cell phone fell into his lap. Gripping the small phone, he recognized the ‘X’ symbol engraved in its cool steel. A small note was attached to it.
Logan,
Thought you could use this in case things get too messy and you need us ‘X-geeks’.
Jean
Ps. And no we aren’t still in the area. We trust you know what you’re doing but as you know the Professor and all of us have never stopped thinking of you as one of us despite your objections.
Smirking to himself, he eyed the waste basket in the corner of the room but after a moment he pocketed the phone in his jacket. What was left in his hands appeared to be the original package that had been sent to him at Xavier’s. It was bundled tightly in packaging paper and tape. In anticipation he released one claw and sliced through the tape.
His anticipation dropped however, when all that was revealed was a file folder. No note. Eyeing the plain folder he levelled his eyes on the coffin.
“Don’t get much more impersonal do yah, Rogue,” he grated.
He kicked out at another chair and snapped, “For a fucking cell phone, Jean leaves me a note but you...”
Stopping he reached up and rubbed his face. “I didn’t mean that,” he whispered solemnly.
Leaning forward on his knees he muttered, “Great I’m talking to a dead body.”
Glancing once more at the closed door he flipped the folder open. Immediately something slipped out from it and landed on the floor with a clang that echoed throughout the room.
In shock Logan glanced down at the object and realized he’d been wrong about Rogue being impersonal.
Reaching down he wrapped the familiar chain around his fingers as he lifted it up. Dangling the chain in front of his face he felt a confliction of emotions wash over him. It wasn’t his original dog tags; those had been lost at Alkali Lake when he’d given them back to Stryker so to speak. When Rogue and he had begun dating he’d given her a new set for their first anniversary. She’d always worn the tags even up to the moment where she’d left him.
There was a difference though in the tags he’d given her and the one he was holding in his hand. The one he was presently holding had only one dog tag on it, it was missing the other. Was it another sign of rejection that she’d sent him it back, he wondered. Or perhaps it was the only way she’d felt comfortable communicating with him then through a note, remembering how disjointed her one letter had been.
Pocketing the chain as well, he finally observed the other contents of the file. His forehead creased as his wide eyes grew in shock at what he was holding. It was a file all about him. And none of it was anything Rogue had contributed herself.
He spotted Stryker’s name throughout some of the papers and what appeared to be his signature on medical release forms. There were sketches and blueprints of what he recognized as his operation that he only had nightmares about. Flipping through the pages in confusion and surprise he came across a form that told him he’d been in the Canadian Forces; that he’d been a soldier. Despite all this sudden information before him, it brought about no great epiphany for him. The folder was filled like a disorganized scrapbook, pieces were still missing. The question of why he had the procedure done still plagued him; however, as he looked closer at the file that held solid concrete facts to his past, he felt a sense of relief. Holding in his own hands he had proof that he had a past.
At the back he came across an old picture of him in his uniform and he was forced to face a ghost from his past. The faded colours of the picture did nothing to diminish its effect on him. He’d been somebody.
Securely closing the file he slipped it in the back of his jeans and under his jacket as he stood up and regarded the coffin.
“What exactly were you into, Marie?” he wondered out loud.
Startled out of his reflection he realized he’d allowed himself to become distracted as he heard a small noise behind him, a small body lowering itself from the ceiling. Despite the noise it was the smell that told him who it was without turning around.
Slowly, he turned from the coffin and faced the young woman as his eyes darted up to the ceiling where one of the panels was missing.
“That’s what I’m here to find out,” Dead Girl replied.
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