Why do you call him Logan?

Disclaimer: Wolverine and every character that appears in this story belong to Marvel. The story takes place after Death of Wolverine, Life After Logan, and Wolverine and the X-Men Vol. 2 # 11.

Storm looked at the garden through the kitchen's window. She laid her eyes on the small garden besides the fountain, the small patch of heaven Wolverine himself had given her when she first came to visit the Jean Grey School. He remembered she used to have a greenhouse up in the attic, and she rarely let anyone see it. He had found it once when he had sneaked into her room, looking for Goddess knows what, but she had a feeling it wasn't anything honorable or decent.

The thought brought a smile into her face, a rare occurrence in such dark days. It was odd how death for them could hurt so much, yet had to be dismissed in days or even hours because of other events unfolding. She thought Wolverine deserved much better memorials than books, photographs or funerals. A tear threatened to escape her eye, but she shook it away, trying to remember times of joy and memories of their time together. He was the best there was at many things, and she blushed at the thought of it.

A gust of wind shook the flowers in her little heavenly garden, letting her know a Blackbird or another large aircraft had arrived, and had not gone into the underground garage. She knew she should probably stand up and look at what was happening, but for once, she decided not to move and let things come to her instead of the other way around. She sat down at the table and rested her head on her arms. She sighed and half-wished she had never left her home in Kenya, where things were harsh and difficult, but not as soul crushing as it was after becoming an X-Man.

A shiver ran down her spine as she noticed the room was getting colder. That could only mean either Robert or teen Bobby had walked inside, still in their frozen form, not caring about how their presence affected the environment. She had told him time and time again, but he had not paid her any attention; or he just didn't care at all. She sighed and stood up, feeling the need to let go of some of the pain she felt inside, and Iceman seemed like the right candidate for the task.

When she turned around, she smelled perfume. It was a scent she was familiar with, one that brought several different emotions; unbridled joy the one most recent.

"Jean," Storm said, as the teenage redhead walked towards her. "I didn't know you would ever set foot here again."

The young Jean Grey smiled and shrugged. Storm still couldn't help but smile when her best friend did such a thing.

"We heard…, something," Jean said, "And from what everyone is saying and everyone is thinking, I guess it's true."

Storm sighed again. The girl in front of her was Jean, but not the Jean she knew. Her adult friend would have been completely torn with grief over the loss of Logan. The teenager standing in the kitchen, wearing a green uniform very different from what Marvel Girl wore, was chewing her lip and feeling more uncomfortable than sad.

"Yes, it's true," Storm finally said. "Logan died; however hard that is to believe."

"Why do you call him Logan?" Jean suddenly asked, placing her hands behind her, looking like a girl asking her teacher something. "His name was James."

Storm stood in silence for a couple of seconds, not knowing what to say, but then she smiled. Her face moved almost on its own accord and rich, full laughter followed. Jean didn't feel offended or ignored, she just felt puzzled and thankful that the beautiful woman who claimed to be her friend wasn't deeply depressed.

"You know, I could read your mind," Jean said, "But I don't want to pry. What's so funny?"

"I don't know," Storm honestly replied. "I guess that it's weird that you should ask such a thing, but then again, you are not the same Jean."

"We have settled that a long time ago," Jean looked away. "I don't know why I feel like I should apologize for that fact."

"It is I who should apologize," Storm said, shaking her head. "It's just that I keep forgetting things at the most unfortunate times. I call him Logan because that's the way he asked us to call him. You see, little one, he didn't remember his real name, and happened to do so after our Jean had died."

"What do you mean, he didn't remember?" Jean asked. Storm continued to smile. Perhaps it would do her good to talk about Wolverine with the one woman he always loved, even if she wasn't exactly her.

"Do have a seat," Storm said, pointing to the table. "I will tell you about Wolverine."

After an hour, Jean sat in silence, looking at the beer in Storm's hand. She was conflicted about what to feel about him. When she had met him, she had only gotten brief glimpses of who the man with claws was; what was his role in the school and what his name was. She had been more worried about when they were instead of who was around them.

"This thing," Jean finally said, not sure if she should meet Storm's eyes or not. "This…, this X-Force, they were killing our enemies?"

Storm nodded and seemed like a large weight had been placed on her shoulders. She took a drink of her beer and locked blue eyes with green ones.

"I didn't understand it as well," Storm said, her voice revealing a bit of anger and disappointment. "Kurt, another one of our good friends, had just died and I found out Scott had been asking Wolverine and others to take lethal action against our enemies. I was furious and asked both of them what Jean, what our Jean, would think about them. Scott, well you saw what he has become. He would only speak about the mutant revolution and how he would do anything to keep us safe. Logan just said he would kill more if that meant Kurt could have survived."

"I don't get it," Jean said, wondering if she could have a beer as well. Many of the things in Storm's mind were clearly going over her head.

"You wonder how the X-Men could change so much that we would welcome a killer into our midst, don't you?"

"It's hard to believe," Jean nodded. "Hank - your Hank - came to us and told us we had to come and see what Scott had become, but you have someone who has killed hundreds and hundreds and is seen in a positive light."

Storm suddenly turned serious and her eyes seemed to harden. Jean felt fear for a moment, before feeling relieved that Ororo wasn't angry at her.

"Wolverine, Logan, James, or however you want to call him, had a very hard and long life," Storm said, leaning forward as if to better drive her point. "From what he learned, and was willing to discuss, he was born over a hundred years ago, and lived through very horrible and very painful things."

"That makes it ok to kill?" Jean asked, feeling righteous anger boil within her.

"What I'm trying to say," Storm leaned even further, "is that Logan was what we needed him to be. He was the one who adapted, Jean. He was the one who most wanted to believe in Charles Xavier's dream, but he knew he couldn't close his eyes and hope things changed. He had been through so many things that he knew a bunch of teenagers would not survive in a world that hated us just because we have an extra gene. He was the one who knew what that hatred would do to us, and was the one willing to kill so no one else would have to."

"That's rationalizing facts, Ororo," Jean said, not bothering to hide her anger. "We are here. Bobby, Warren, Hank, Scott and I came to this future because we were told your Cyclops was out of it and had killed Charles Xavier. He killed one man - one man! - and you felt betrayed by him. Now I am sitting here hearing you talk about a man…, no, not a man, a monster who has killed thousands and are feeling sorry for him? I'm sorry, Storm, but I don't understand!"

Storm remained in silence, thinking hard about what Jean was saying. She thought hard about how to reply, because even if the girl in front of her wasn't her friend, she did have the same explosive temper the other one had. The wrong word or the slightest sign of surrender would make the redhead lose interest and create an everlasting impression of her dead friend.

"You are absolutely right," Storm finally said. "It is a conundrum. We are hypocrites, Jean. We have crucified Scott when Logan has done worse things. But do you want to know what is the difference between them?"

"That one is a good man who made a mistake and the other is a monster?" Jean said as she crossed her arms.

"Logan knew what he was, child," Storm said, leaning back into her chair. "Scott…, Scott is in so much denial that he is in danger of becoming something worse than the monster you say Logan was. If you could sit in a room with them right now, and ask them what you just asked me, Scott would try to defend his position. He would try to make you see his reasons, and would try to get you to agree with him. Logan would tell you he knew he was a monster."

"That doesn't make sense," Jean said and mimicked Storm's posture in her own chair.

"I can't make you feel sorry for him," Storm sighed. "I can't make you love him enough so you could see beyond the animal everyone else saw. You met him for forty minutes, but I - we -have known him for years. We have fought besides him. We have seen him bleed for us. We have seen him risk his life and ultimately sacrifice it for what was right. But there is one thing I can tell you that is true."

"What is it?" Jean asked, knowing what Storm said was true. She uncrossed her arms and relaxed.

"Logan was a sad man," Storm said, "After knowing him for a while you could see it in his eyes. Even if no one believed it, he had a soul, and he lived in pain all the time. Not just from the metal in his bones, but because of what he had seen. Everyone he loved died. He saw his wife die. He saw a woman he loved dearly across the world slowly die, poisoned by an enemy. He saw you…, he saw Jean die twice. He saw more death than you and I will ever see, and he still dared to believe."

"That's sad," Jean said, feeling her anger diminishing. "But that doesn't change a thing for me."

"I know," Storm said as she looked at the ceiling. She let her head rest on the back of the chair, feeling like a failure for making the teenage Jean have a bad image of Wolverine. She felt she had betrayed him.

"I'm sorry," Jean said, regretting she had made someone who cared about her feel bad. "I don't have the same frame of reference as you do."

"Jean told me once that telepaths remember everything," Storm said, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Is that true?"

Jean nodded.

"Do you remember when you first came here?" Ororo asked. "When you first stepped into this age?"

"James…, Wolverine ... leaped at us," Jean replied. "He wanted to kill Scott. If I hadn't stopped him, he would have gutted him."

"What happened next?" Ororo asked, lowering her eyes and looking at the teenager.

"He took us to his office and talked to us," Jean answered, reliving everything in her memory with her powers. "He said we had to go back, and then I put him to sleep."

Ororo frowned. Jean felt very self-conscious when that happened.

"No one could do that to him, you know," Storm revealed. "His training or his adamantiummade it impossible."

Jean squirmed in her seat.

"You could see into his mind, right?" Ororo asked, leaning forward again.

"It was… disturbing, but yeah," Jean said. "He was angry, but at the same time was really happy that Hank had brought us here."

"You know why," Storm said, her eyes softening. "Tell me what you saw inside his head."

"I saw many things I don't want to remember," Jean looked away. "It was too intense - too raw."

"You know what I'm getting at, child," Storm said, her voice steady and serious. "That glimpse into his mind must tell you everything you need to know. Tell me what it felt to be inside his head."

Jean sighed and covered her face with her hands.

"I can't explain it," Jean almost whispered. "I guess it must be what the tigers feel when they're in a zoo and see men and women and children walking in front, and he feels their blood and hears their heartbeats, but can't do anything. He sees them pointing at him and smiling and throwing things, and he can't do anything because he can't run, he can't jump over the fence andrun like he knows he should."

"And when he saw you, what did he do?" Ororo asked, her voice also a whisper.

"He wanted me to know his name was James," Jean said, taking her hands off her face. "He wanted me to know he was called James Howlett. He wanted me to look at him."

"That sounds like a monster to you?" Ororo smiled. "It's a trick question, I know. You have learned the horrible things he's done, but you have yet to know the great things he did. You should have a talk with my Kitten sometime."

"Kitten?" Jean asked and then her eyes grew wide. "You mean Professor Kitty?"

"I shouldn't have said that," Storm chuckled. "Promise me your other teammates won't hear about it."

"Cross my heart," Jean smiled.

"You should also talk to Rogue and Jubilee," Storm said. "Perhaps even to Sabretooth, if you have the chance. If you consider Logan a monster, I don't know what he will look like to you."

"Why is it so important for you to make me feel his death?" Jean asked.

"Because he loves you," Storm said. "All of you. It doesn't matter if you're from the past or the future. It doesn't matter if you're alive or dead. It doesn't matter what you have done or what you will do, he loves you."

"That hurts you," Jean stated. "You feel something for him."

"We had our history," Storm nodded. "That's between him and me. But what he felt for you, I can't explain. I can't begin to describe it, and I won't desecrate such a feeling trying to do it. Whatever he did, whether it be good or bad or horrible, he worked hard to make it count. The best thing I can do for him is that you don't have a bad image of him. I'm sure that if Melita knew what you meant to him, she would have gone to you."

"And do what?"

"I don't know," Storm shrugged. "I guess she would have hugged you. It may be uncomfortable for you, but we all know how important you were, you are, to Wolverine."

"If that means so much to you, I will try to understand who he was," Jean said. "Looks like I'm missing a lot of him."

"Please do so," Storm said as she stood up and walked around to stand next to Jean. "Try to learn about him, and maybe you will develop a sort of understanding about him. Maybe you could even get to want to meet him, because I'm sure he was very happy to have been able to see you again before he died."

Jean stood up and couldn't help but blush. She nodded and was slightly surprised when the considerably taller Storm leaned down and hugged her. Jean felt strange at first, but the warmth in the gesture was like having her sister next to her. She closed her eyes and placed her arms around Storm, enjoying the moment.

Storm let her go and stood straight, looking happier than she had been, and placed her hands on Jean's face.

"Goddess, it's so good to see you," Storm said. "Henry might have been wrong, but I'm really happy that you're here."

Jean blushed again, and nodded as Storm turned around and walked away. The redhead stood still for a little while and noticed Ororo had not picked up after herself. She took the empty beer bottle off the table and walked to the sink and rinsed it before tossing into the trash can. She looked at the same window Ororo had been staring at and saw the garden outside.

Jean sighed and looked at the flowers. She didn't tell Ororo, but she could remember even more things about the first time she had seen Wolverine. He was like a tiger ready to pounce, but there had been many other thoughts and emotions inside. He had trusted her the moment he saw her - completely. It was obvious because she had been easily able to enter his mind and shut him down.

What she had also failed to mention, was that when she entered his mind, she felt his heart jump. Not out of fear or surprise, his heart had jumped because he had been extremely happy to feel her in his mind.

Jean felt a warm feeling inside her, and vowed to learn more about James Howlett - about Wolverine -, the man they said was the best there is at what he did.