Half an hour later, Logan's eyes were still red and puffy from his tears, as he opened the door to what he now remembered to be the bathroom and took in the rather good condition the walls and ceiling were in. The mold restricted only to the windowsill and the frame of the milk-tainted glass. Despite the thick layer of dust on the toilette-seat, the huge corner bath-tube and the sink the room was pretty clean and he dared to give the tabs a try.

The mutant watched expectantly as his sensitive ears caught a gurgling and rumble, praying that the old pipes weren't broken. Suddenly the gargling noise subsided. Just as Logan was about to give up and turn it shut, a low growl vibrated in the metal parts of the sink and a blast of a brown broth thundered against the white ceramic, splattering there. Without delay he turned the tabs down, but it didn't lessen the ferocity the dirty soup was thrown into the basin, spraying onto Logan's white tee shirt. "Jesus!"

Wolverine snarled at the mess before him, his nerves thinning. Then with a last roar the flow steadied suddenly and the broth was finally tamed. Opening the faucets to their fullest again and watching the brown sauce disappear in the drain open, Logan grunted through his teeth. "We have water! If ya wanna call it that way..."

"Eww." Rogue had approached the other room and stood in the doorframe her eyes observing the mess in the washbasin and on her love's shirt. "Ya're a piggy, Wolvie." He shot her an annoyed glare – he wasn't in the mood for jokes. "Uhu, it becomes clear!" Rogue exclaimed as the water lost its brown shade.

"That's promisin'." The Canadian faced his girl with a grave expression. "But don't think 'bout drinkin' it."

"Ah might hear voices in mah head, but Ah'm not nuts!" The brunette shot him a disbelieving glare and walked over to the small window, opening it – making the way free for fresh air.

Worry flashed over Logan's face as he observed her movements. "Gonna buy you new gloves, baby. Those are contaminated."

Startled she cut in on breathing in the fresh air and faced the man behind her. "Huh?" Following his gaze she noticed the dark patches of mold and other grime on her blue opera gloves. "Another pair ruined." Sighing she returned to the bedroom and sank down on the mattress.

Running her hand over the white sheet beneath her – silently cursing as she left black streaks of mold doing so - her chocolate eyes fell upon three parallel slices. With a chuckle on her lips she sprang back to her feet and clutched the cloth. "Your lively nightmares aren't somethin' new, sugah."

Scowling Logan leaned in the doorframe his arms crossed over his chest, a bewildered glance sparkling in his eyes. "How-" His question was already answered by Rogue holding a torn blanket before her body. "Seems so."

Giggling the young woman tossed the fabric back onto the bed and approached the nightstand curiously. Opening the drawer she looked in it, finding an old motorcycle magazine, a few cigars, a debt obligation – telling some guy called Doug owed Logan 20 bucks for poker – and a card, she immediately picked up. "Ah found your ID." She read out loudly, a smile on her lips. "James Logan Howlett. Born in Alberta, Canada. So Logan is now officially your middle name." She laughed and heard her love approach. "Your ID is a little expired. Only for 17 years."

His own curiosity got the better of him and he snatched the card from Marie's fingers, sucking in all dates presented by the paper. He wondered if the birth-date and birthplace were correct or made up, but a feeling told him they were accurate, except for the year of his birth, of course. Eventually he eyed the picture of him. "Stupid photo."

"Nah, cute.", chirped the brunette next to him, peeking over his biceps onto the ID.

"As I say: stupid."

She watched him shove the card into his jeans' back-pocket. "Ah like that haircut."

Logan only huffed in reply, inwardly smirking on the idea to see the faces of his fellow X-Men if he would abandon his trademark hair spikes. He assumed everyone, except his Marie, thought them part of his feral mutation, but in truth – and that would astonish those geeks even more – he used toiletries. His year long use of mousse had shaped his hair into its two pointy ends by now, so even a shower couldn't completely deform his hairstyle so easily.

X X X X

The small closet in the bedroom only revealed next to dresses, skirts and other clothes that had once belonged to Kayla, several blue jeans, flannel shirts, wife-beaters and tee-shirts, causing a hysterical laughter from the brunette and a comment about his clothing style being apparently tied to his genes.

Back in the main room the two of them approached a second door and a wave of sickly foul stench met their noses as soon as Logan opened the door. "Breath through your mouth."

"Ah'm doing this the whole time!" She snapped back annoyed. "That reeks like a rat's decaying!"

"Cuz there is." Logan gestured over to a corner. Maggots and flies colonized the rotting flesh of what once was the body of a rat.

Disgusted Rogue averted her gaze and struggled with the gagging reflex. "That with the rat was a joke…"

The intense smell made Logan's stomach clench and his head squirm, nevertheless he neared the corpse. He was glad to notice a broom, dustpan and hand brush in another corner. Fetching the smaller cleaning tools he crouched down next to the rat and its fellow lodgers and swept them up onto the miniature shovel and carried the mess over to the trash can deposing everything into the garbage bag. Lifting the plastic bag up, he fastened it with knots before opening the window.

Rogue gave him a look of gratitude and waited a moment till her stomach had settled again and the fresh summer air had eased her breathing. She watched Logan's gaze sweep over the desk and decided to join him. "Oh, mah granny had such a thing on her desk!"

"That thing is a typewriter, Marie." His voice was edged with annoyance and disbelief.

With curious eyes the young woman scrutinized the machine. The different keys had a thick layer of dust on them, but the letters on them were still recognizable and the whole compilation reminded her on a keyboard. "Ah know, sugah. It's like an ancient computer."

"I give you ancient…" Logan muttered under his breath inspecting the swollen panels framing the bookshelf. Carefully he dug his fingers in the small gap between shelf and wall and began to pull it towards his body. Before he could have a good look on the backside, his nostrils picked up on the unique stench of mold and wet, rotting wood. Daring a glance behind the shelf the Canadian took in the wet grey mold that covered the backside of the bookshelf and the swollen wall.

Meanwhile Marie's attention was wrapped up by the old writing utensil. Remembering her mother used to have a more modern typewriter than her grandmother, she looked for a power cable, but found none. Curiosity got the better of her and while noting a single sheet of paper in the machine she pressed the 'h'-key. "Ooh, it doesn't even use electricity!" She exclaimed with a brilliant smile forming on her pink lips as she resumed her typing, finishing the word 'hello'.

Logan rolled his eyes and heard his Wolverine snicker in his mind. Deciding that the entire wall behind the shelf needed to be replaced, he let a low growl of annoyance loose, before returning to the main room he closed the window again.

Instead of hearing Rogue's light footfalls on the wooden floor behind him, the clicking of the typewriter continued. Turning around he shook his head on the brunette in amusement. Who had thought an antique writer would catch the young woman's undivided attention? "The museum tour is over, kid." He chuckled as he saw her shoulders twitch in surprise and he resumed his way to the other room.

With a pout she left the study, closing the door behind her and examined the main room once again. "No TV? Weren't ya a hockey fan back then, huh?" She knew something had bothered her the entire time: Logan and no hockey, unbelievable in her opinion.

"Dunno, but I doubt there was television reception this far in the wilderness 20 years ago."

"True. Gonna try if mah notebook has DTT reception here."

Logan shot her a smug grin and watched her open some drawers in the kitchen. "I'm not the only hockey fan here, huh?" He joined her and opened a cupboard revealing a few cans. Growling again he picked one can of kidney beans up.

"We'll need some boxes to sort stuff out." Rogue heard a grunt from her love and continued. "The plates, mugs and cutlery just need cleaning. And the books in the study weren't damaged."

Her last comment made the Wolverine snicker, the girl was such a bookworm. "We'll also need garbage bags and somethin' to get rid of the dirt gluin' to everythin'. Bleach or the like."

Rogue inspected the old gas stove. The interior was only a little dusty, but all in all it was in a good condition and might actually still work. Closing the oven with a light thud she approached the fridge and her hand immediately enclosed the holder. The door wasn't even fully open when the brunette already regretted her decision to examine the inner of the old machine. The stench that was invading her nostrils burned her nose's mucosa and brought a stinging pain to her forehead. If the reek hadn't already made her stomach turn and twist, the view of the black broth streaming from the inner of the fridge and gathering in a puddle on the wooden floor, would have.

Throwing the door shut with more force than intended, Rogue struggled again against the gagging reflex, but was sure she would loose this time and hasted through the half opened front door to the porch. One of her hands clutched her middle, the other one tried to stroke her white and brown locks from her face as she had a reunion with her lunch.

Logan swore never before in his life – he now knew that he had wandered the earth for far more than one and a half centuries – had he ever inhaled such an awful and strangling smell as he did in that very moment. His chest was burning, tears sting at his eyes and his head ached while he prayed his enhanced senses would go numb at once. Holding his breath he saw Rogue rush out of the cabin, away from the terrible reeking soup on the floor. Logan's head began to cloud by the obtrusive stench that penetrated his nose and his survival instincts told him that sometimes retread was the best option left, when faced with an overwhelming opponent. Hence Wolverine followed his girl out of the hut and away from the smell.

With a last cough Rogue wiped her mouth with the back of her dirty glove and finally looked up to see the other mutant lean both his hands flat against the wall next to her, catching his breath. His red eyes burned with anger into her. "W- why in fuckin' h- hell did you open that d- damn fridge?"

"Sorry!" The brunette spit back at his growling accuses.

"Curious idiot!"

"What!" Her eyes widened in disbelief, through it wasn't the first time he had called her an idiot, but never in that annoyed tone. "Come again!"

"Jesus! Whadya expect in a fridge after two fuckin' decades without electricity!" The Canadian heard her growl in frustration and finally added "Idiot!".

"Asshole!" Pulling her ruined gloves from her hands the younger mutant stomped towards their car seething with anger.

A few minutes passed, in which Marie leaned against the Jeep and kicked stones to vent her anger. Eventually Logan approached her, his face as gruff as ever and his agitated hazel orbs locked with her chocolate ones in an instant. Both stared the other straight in the eyes, their gazes never wavering while neither of the two hardheads thought about backing down.

A small eternity later Rogue still held the feral's glare, her lips formed a cocky grin. "If we keep to exposure the floor to that smoldering broth long enough, the cabin'd have a basement in no time."

His anger vanished and a snicker escaped his lips. "Not gonna try this."

Marie pushed away from the car and her grin widened, their little argument already forgotten. "We could wait till the stuff in the fridge is mutated enough to walk out of the cabin on its own…"

This comment made Logan chuckle and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pressing her petite frame into his broad chest. "Let's have a look into the garage 'fore headin' into town to get some supplies." She nodded slightly and he leaded her over to the smaller wooden hut.

After opening the garage door with some difficulty their gazes fell immediately on a beat up pickup truck, an old Harley, a chainsaw propped up in a corner and a counter with the adjoining wall harboring a large variety of tools, ranging from screwdrivers to saws and two axes. When Logan approached the tools to inspect the condition the utilities were in, two rats scampered through the small hut before scurrying out into the wilderness, making Rogue jump. "Argh!"

The brunette saw the smirk on her love's face, but decided to ignore him for the moment. She neared the motorbike with huge eyes, scrutinizing the battered machine. The knowledge about mechanics she got from the feral brothers told her that a lot of work would be needed before the bike could hit the road again.

"Most of the tools are fine. No need to buy new stuff for the repairs of the cabin."

"Good to hear, sugah."

Logan walked over to the pickup, inspecting the rust on the doorframe and the sides. His fingertips traced over the cool metal as he went over to the hood. His sharp eyes immediately caught sight of the five scratches in the cover. "What is it with Victor and always damagin' my cars?" Wolverine growled annoyed.

Marie approached him and the damaged car when she heard the older feral's voice in her mind. "Hey, with that shitty camper I did humanity a fuckin' favor!"

"What favor?" Her inner Logan barked back.

"The only use for that thing was to get smashed with a tree trunk and blown to bits!" Marie burst out into a fit of laughter, earning a startled glare from the real Logan. "See even your girl agrees with me."

The brunette tried to concentrate on formulating a whole sentence in her mind, when she heard Logan's snarl. "Sorry, sugah… but that camper was a dump."

"Face it, you lived like a pig, Jimmy!" Victor took to teasing his brother like a duck to water. "Always bought second hand crap. Spendin' your time screwin' garbage cans on wheels than women…" This made Marie laugh even more and she leaned on the hood of the car for hold.

"Ain't true. Found the time for both…uhu, Marie, darlin'…" His uneasiness about his slip of tongue only fuelled the brunette's hysterics and she clutched her stomach while tears sprang to her eyes.

"You'd still wallow in your own smut, if the runt wouldn't look after you!" Victor was so right sometimes.

Despite her first impression of Sabretooth years ago, with his rough and uncombed long hair, she had learned through the brothers' memories that Victor was the one to favor a clean and luxurious hotel room over a cheap and filthy fleabag or even a night spent camping in the wilderness – not that he would have problems to live in the dirt, whereas Logan indeed didn't give a damn as long as the prize was right and he had a roof over the head and a bed to crash on. This was one of the insights into the brothers' personalities that surprised Marie the most.

Logan watched the girl laugh like a loon, his brow hitched in his trademark style and his arms crossed over his chest. "What's so fuckin' funny, Marie?"

"Ooh, … nothin'… they're just arguing again…" She tried to calm down, shoving the brothers' voices to the back of her mind, where they would hopefully remain for a while.

His brow rose even higher, if that was possible. "Usually that would make you everything else than laugh." Her amused face made him even more curious. "What're they saying?"

"Nah…" She shook her head vehemently and fled out of the hut and to their Jeep. While waiting for her Wolverine to return, she caught her breath and stripped out of her thin dark green camisole top, revealing a white spaghetti top, and packed it together with her dirty gloves away in a spare plastic bag, they kept in the trunk for laundry. Afterwards she fetched another thin but long-sleeved jacket and a new pair gloves from the duffle bag.

Logan eventually joined her at the car, glad to see she had stripped out of the most likely contaminated clothes. "The damn rodents had gnawed on the pick-up's cables. Had hoped to use the old girl to transport the construction supplies."

"Old girl, huh?" Rogue grinned in mock irritation and slid into the passenger seat.

The Canadian was about to revive the engine, but then glanced over to the young woman next to him. He reached out with his callused hand and cupped her face through her hair gently. Marie leaned instinctively into his warm touch as her eyes searched for his.

"Wanna give you a share of my healin', darlin'." Before she could argue back he continued with a serious expression. "Not a chance in hell I let you catch an exotic disease from that bacteria incubator." He saw her contemplate his words. "Along the way we might add to my immunity to your skin, babe." This did the trick and she nodded.

Logan bent forward and captured her soft lips into a long and loving kiss, concentrating his attention on her warm skin and sweet taste than the pull of life-force and the pain.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X

They were in a grocery store in downtown, the shop seemed to be a family business, but wasn't that small like most of the convenience stores were, she knew from her hometown. It offered a vast range of different brands and no-name-articles and their cart was already stuffed full with two six packs of Molson, two bottles Pepsi and a few packages beef jerky next to two large bottles of bleach, three packages of plastic garbage bags and rubber gloves in two different sizes.

Marie eyed the different kinds of cleaners – for the kitchen, the parquet, the bathroom and windows. "Ya think three bottles of each will be enough?"

"Take the whole box, Marie. For each." Logan answered as he rearranged their cart's contents, so the four boxes had enough room.

"I wanna look for a trailer. We need something to transport the fridge and the building material with." He said while they finally neared the check out counter.

Only an elderly woman was before them in the row and Rogue began to place their groceries on the counter's conveyor, contemplating if they got all necessary items. "Oh, cleanin' rags!"

"I'll get 'em."

The beer was the first thing on the conveyor and Rogue smiled as the other customer had left and the clerk, whose name tag read Ben, greeted her. She felt like a kid at Christmas morning. She may be too young to buy alcohol legally in her home country, but here in Canada she was old enough. "Do ya need to see mah ID?" She smiled at the cashier, how she had always dreaded this question back in Westchester.

"Nah, won't be necessary. Your …" The young man paused a moment before gesturing with his chin after Logan. "He looks old enough."

The brunette was a bit upset and cranky about his answer. 'Damn. Now Ah wanna show mah ID and he doesn't want it!'

Logan returned with a box of cleaning rags. "Got you your Oreos, honey."

Rogue instantly forgot about her ID and beamed at her love. "Ooh, thanks!" Snatching the box from the stack of cleaning rags in his arms, she handed it the young man on the other side of the counter as her gaze centered on the chewing gums on its surface. "May Ah have those?" Her chocolate eyes met Logan's hazel ones, silently asking if his sensitive senses could put up with the smell today.

"Yeah, but not those lemon ones. Those stink awfully." He grunted and began to reload the boxes into the cart.

"Ya're the best." The brunette beamed at him and decided for cherry flavor, handing the chewing gum to Ben.

The gruff man with the sideburns and the battered leather jacket looked so familiar, but Ben couldn't put his finger on where he might have seen him. "Do I know you, bub?"

Startled Logan looked up from his purchases and mustered the stranger. "Possible." He replied after a long moment and then decided that this man might indeed know him. "I used to live here a long time ago."

Ben suspended to scan the next articles and eyed the older man closer. Suddenly he remembered the face, one in his memories the man didn't wear that dark scowl and that odd hairstyle. "Oh yeah, you're Ms. Silverfox's boyfriend. Always picked her up after school."

"That's right." Logan's eyes widened. The guy indeed knew him. "You knew Kayla, bub?"

"I was one of her students." Ben's smile grew, before he frowned slightly. "It's now 19… 20 years ago? The two of you suddenly vanished from the earth's surface." The man held a what-happened expression.

Wolverine's gaze darkened in pain and traveled down to the counter. "We had an accident and … Kayla died. I lost my memories… it will be 19 years soon."

"I'm sorry t' hear that. The kids loved her." His sympathy was genuine, Logan could tell by scenting the air. "So you're back now?"

"Yeah, hopefully this place will help me with my memory gaps."

"The town has changed a great deal in the last two decades. Grows every year." Ben finally resumed with his work. "But some places never change. Hope your stay will help you."

Logan nodded in thanks and paid for their groceries. "Do ya know where the next second-hand car dealer is?"

"Down the main street, the last branch to the right. You can't miss it."

"Thanks, bub." The mutant shoved his change back into his wallet. He had decided that he liked that guy Ben, who gave him helpful and short answers, just the way Logan liked it. "Is here some kind of accommodation opportunity? My old cabin didn't cope so well with the years as I did."

"There's an Inn down the street. The light yellow house." Ben informed him and saw the two off, wondering if the girl was Kayla's and Logan's daughter. She seemed to have the right age…