"Last night, a young Caucasian girl, the age of twenty-six was at her apartment sleeping when a deranged man broke in and brutalized her. The girl was raped and had slashes all over her body with what appears to be claw marks. Everything in her apartment was destroyed and the same claw marks were found in the bedpost, the wall, the door and everywhere else. These claw marks found in the victim's apartment are consistent with the claw marks found in the victim. This piece of evidence leads police to believe that a Mu-" Scott Summers turned of the reporting fake blonde news anchor, who was just pretending to be appalled by the story she was reporting but inside she was really numb. Without her rattling on about the violent crime there was an uneasy silence in the room.
"Which Mutant do you think they will be after?" Scott asked rhetorically, giving a voice to everyone's communal thought.
"It doesn't matter what they'll think, it only matters if he did it or not, and I have a feeling he's innocent," Professor Charles Xavier responded, wheeling towards the door.
"It has his mark on it," Scott protested. "The evidence points to him, and that's all the public needs to have convict him and throw away the key."
"Scott, don't you think that is a little premature? Shouldn't we at least see what he has to say on the subject?" Charles asked as he open the door without lifting a hand.
"Fine," Scott replied stiffly.
"Actually Scott, I was thinking Strom and I would handle this alone."
Strom had been silent during the conversation, and kept silent sensing how Scott was bound to react.
"Why?"
"Because we don't want him feeling as though we think he's guilty, and if you're in the room he'll feel that way and then he'll never tell us the truth," Charles explained calmly as he open the door to the hallway. "Besides, we need someone to watch over the children in this school."
"Storm can do it," Scott offered in a heartbeat.
Charles sighed and a gave in. "Fine you can come, but we cannot accuse him of anything."
Scott gave a triumphant nodded, and they headed down to Logan's room.
When they entered Logan's room they found him passed out on his bed in a wife beater and jeans. He still had his boots on from last night. His bed was mess, it looked like he had a bad dream and attacked it. There were three deep slash marks on the pillow next to his head. Scott strode over to Logan and shoved his shoulder forcefully. When Logan didn't react Scott shook him harder, saying, "Get up now."
"Here, let me help," Storm offered after Logan still didn't stir. She conjured a small gray cloud above his head and commanded it to rain.
Logan groaned as he felt the soft rain dance on his face, but he jumped up once he heard the clap of thunder. Storm disarmed her cloud and smiled at him. "Good Morning Logan."
"Well good morning to you too Storm," Logan replied, giving her a devilish grin, Then he saw the Professor and added, "Good morning Professor." The next thing he noticed was the figure looming over his bed. He looked up. "Eyeball."
"We have a few questions for you," Scott told him coldly.
"What is this, an interrogation?"
"Only if you resist it," Scott informed him.
"No, it's nothing like that," Charles assured Logan. "We are just wondering about your whereabouts last night."
"Why, I miss curfew?"
"Just answer the question," Scott demanded.
"Scott…" Charles warned and then continued, "We just like to know where you were."
"I was out," Logan answered spitefully, getting defensive.
"Logan, there was an attack last night," Strom began.
"And you think I did it!" he snapped heatedly.
"No, I think the media is trying to make it look like you did it, so they would have justification to attack a Mutant," Storm told him calmly. "So we just need to know where you were last night and what you did."
"I didn't attack anyone," Logan snarled.
"Really, then what did you do?" Scott questioned suspiciously.
"I went out, got a beer, drank it, came back and fell asleep," Logan answered.
"You stink of whiskey," Scott commented.
"So it might have been more then one beer, sue me," Logan retorted.
"How do we know you didn't get drunk and go out an attack some girl?" Scott inquired, glaring at Logan behind his shades.
"Because I wouldn't do something like that," Logan shot back.
"There's blood on you knuckles," Storm commented softly.
Logan looked down and saw the dull red color of dried blood caked along his knuckles. "I probably hurt myself, or maybe it's ketchup," he offered hurriedly.
Scott laughed in disbelief and asked, "Have you seen the news?"
Logan shook his head and Scott hit a button on the wall causing a television to come out from the room's ceiling. "There's a TV in here?" Logan muttered in confusion.
"Maybe if you stuck around longer you would know that," Scott grumbled as he turned on the television to the news.
The news was showing pictures of the apartment and the claw marks. "Don't those look familiar," Scott said.
"That's not what my marks look like," Logan defended.
Scott picked up the slashed pillow just as the TV showed a picture of a slashed pillow. They were identical. "That doesn't prove I did it," Logan stated.
"This just in," the news anchor on the television said. "The police have just released a sketch of what the rapist looks like that they have obtain from the victim. Here is the sketch."
They flashed a sketch of a white man in his thirties, with dark hair, sideburns and hair that came up to a point on both sides. It resembled Logan strikingly well.
Scott rolled his eye and shut off the TV. Logan watched as the television went back into the ceiling and mumbled, "You gotta show me how to do that."
"Logan this is serious. If the media is trying to implicate you in this crime then we need to know the truth in order to help you," Charles told him.
"I don't know," Logan whispered.
"Logan you can trust us."
"No, I don't know where I was yesterday," Logan clarified, looking down at the ground.
"So you drank till you blacked out?" Scott suggested with a superior attitude.
"No!" Logan yelled. "I don't remember any of yesterday, other then I woke up around five and then fell back asleep."
"So how do we know you didn't do this?"
"Because I wouldn't do something like this!"
"But we don't really know that," Scott told him. "We don't know what you were really like before…"
Scott was attacking the lack of knowledge of Logan's past, and that pissed off Logan. "I'm not like that!" he roared.
"How do we know?" Scott yelled back.
"Scott, I think that's quite enough," Charles interrupted. "Now, there a student looking for me, so I am just going to say one thing before I go. Logan, I believe you and we'll sort this all out later. Come along Scott, I believe you can help."
As Charles wheeled out, Scott lingered behind for a moment. He gave Logan a look of disgust, shook his head and then followed the Professor out. Logan glared after him and then turned to Storm. "You believe me, right?"
Storm was silent for a moment and then said quietly, "I want to believe you Logan. From what I know about you I don't think you could have done this, but you have to look at all the evidence against you. It's hard to ignore." She gave Logan a remorseful look and then headed over to the door. She paused and while here back was facing him she said, "I'm sorry Logan, but it's how I feel."
She walked out leaving Logan alone.
"So, did Wolverine really attack someone?" Bobby asked while he sat in the mansion's kitchen with Rogue, Kurt and Scott later that day.
"That's the way it looks," Scott answered. "The girl even gave the police a sketch that looks exactly like him, that is before she fell back unconscious."
"It must have been Mystique, Logan wouldn't do anything like that," Rogue defended.
"I agree," Kurt added in his thick accent. "I have only been here a few weeks, but I still have faith that he would not do such a bad thing."
"Listen, there's a lot of gaps in Logan's past that no one, not even Logan, knows about. For all we know he could have done this type of thing before," Scott explained.
"No, Logan wouldn't do that," Rogue stated firmly, anger flashing in her eyes.
Bobby got up and crossed over to the refrigerator, saying, "I mostly agree with Rogue. I don't think Logan could have done something like this, but then again, I don't really know what Logan's capable of. And we have to admit, Logan can be pretty scary sometimes."
As Bobby shut the refrigerator's door, Logan was standing behind it, snarling, "I'm scary, huh?"
Bobby jumped back in fear and replying, "No, that's not what I meant at all."
"It's what you said Ice Cube," Logan snapped.
"Because it's true Logan," Scott hissed at him, "no one knows what you're capable of and no one trust you."
Logan snarled at him, but Rogue went over to him and said, "I trust you Logan."
"Thanks Marie," he whispered, for only her to hear. He shifted his attention to Scott and growled, "Hey Eyeball, the professor wants to see us."
Scott got up and resentfully followed Logan out into the hall. Scott went to turn left, but stopped short when he saw Logan go right. "Where are you going?" he asked hostilely.
Logan glanced over his shoulder with a superior glare and said, "The Professor is down this way."
Scott watched as Logan walked down the hall, something in his gut telling him something was wrong, but still followed him down the hall. When Logan reached the door to the garage, Scott knew this wasn't right. "Logan, what are we doing down here?"
Scott was soon staring down three steel blades. "Give me the keys to the bike," a gruff voice demanded.
"Logan…" Scott voice drifted off, transparently show his fear of what he thinks Logan is capable of doing.
"I'm going out, and you're going to give me your keys," Logan explain, smirking.
"You can't go out, the police are looking for someone exactly like you!" Scott yelled.
"Then we better hope the police aren't looking where I'm going. Now give me your keys."
Scott shuffled through his pockets and resentfully handed over his keys. Logan hungrily took the keys and retracted his claws. Scott gave a small sigh of relief and Logan couldn't have that. He made a fist and swung. "Thanks for everything buddy," he said to the unconscious figure on the floor and then ran to the motorcycle to make his escape.
Hospitals smelt of two things, they smelt like death and smelt sterile. Death is an easily recognized scent for Logan. The smell is stuffy and makes you gag when you smell it. You feel almost as if you are going to suffocate on it. And a hospital needs to be sterile, so Logan supposed it made sense that it would smell like it. Still, the sterile death smell was strong enough to make even Logan's steel stomach gag. He didn't understand how doctors and nurses could stand it.
He tapped a Candy Striper on her shoulder, and when she turned around he could not will himself to look at her, to let her see him. "Uh, can you tell me about the girl who was attacked and rape?" he asked gruffly.
"That monster killed her, that's what I can tell you," the Candy Striper spat angrily, and then added as an afterthought, "off record of course."
"She died," Logan repeated, staring off at a now empty hospital room.
"Yeah, and when they catch that freak who killed her, I hope they chop of his…" The Striper hesitated before observing, "You know, you look kinda familiar."
Logan felt his heart race as he turned away from outspoken girl. She didn't say where he looked familiar from because he knew and she knew. He knew what was coming next. She screamed, a high pitch squeal of panic and fright. Logan bolted towards the stairs, pushing doctors, nurses, patients, and a food cart out of his way while the girl behind him identified him to the hospital security as the murderer.
Logan had just made it out of the hospital as a blaring alarm, accompanied by flashing red lights went. He barely whipped around the corner of the hospital when the police squad cars came screeching to a halt and he kept running. His feet were traveling faster then his mind or else he would have thought to obtain Scott's bike and make a dash back to the Mansion, no instead he ended up hiding in the bushes at the park two blocks from the hospital.
As he took deep even breaths in the bushes, he heard something crinkle underneath his foot. He looked down annoyed and moved his foot away. There was the police sketch staring back at him on the front page of the newspaper. He snatched up from the ground, and while his hands were fighting with each other on whether to crumple it up or tear it to shreds his conscious just wanted that damning picture away from him, resulting in him tossing the newspaper as far away from him, land with the sketch facing down.
Now he was left to face the horrifying reality that became his life. He couldn't go back to the Mansion; the police would track him there. That would give the government a justified reason to invade the school, again, and Logan couldn't let that happen, again. He needed to do something that would throw the police off that scent, but what.
Logan finally figured out what he needed to do. He had to be spotted by someone, far away from this small New York town, made to appear as though he's on the run. The police would follow him, and the school would be safe. Marie would be safe.
Marie. It wasn't fair for her that this had to happen. He heard what she said to Scott. She was defending him, and though Scott didn't believe her she still stood up to him. She didn't deserve him running out on her like this, but it was the only way to protect her. He would call her, and at least tell her goodbye though.
And what would happen if the police caught him? Logan hadn't thought of that. If he were trapped would he fight his way out? That wouldn't make him any better then the Brotherhood.
Would he kill himself, and how? He was indestructible. Maybe if he cut off his head but where would he find a blade strong enough to slice through his metal bones. Could he strangle himself to death? It would be pretty hard to heal himself with no oxygen in his lungs.
No. Logan forced all thoughts of suicide out of his head. He wasn't going to kill himself over a case of mistake identity. This wasn't the first hard situation he's been in, and wouldn't be the last. Who or whatever was doing this to him wouldn't break him; he would stand up and fight.
But still, he wondered if suffocation could be a way to off himself successfully.
As Logan crept out of the bushes, he bumped into a large woman that smelt of flowers and body odor. She glare at him after he didn't offer an apology, and bent down to pick up the discarded paper, grumbling something about "litter bugs".
She scanned the first page of the newspaper and looked up at Logan who had only gotten two steps away from her. "Hey you," she called after him, "have you seen this news. Horrible, isn't it?"
"Yeah, horrible," Logan replied gruffly, stopping dead in his tracks, but didn't turn around.
"People today are just too soft and emotionally. They need to learn to get over their so called tragedies," the woman ranted.
"There are some things people can't get over," Logan replied coolly, thinking this woman to be a fool.
The woman laughed bitterly. "Please, this girl killed herself because her boyfriend of four and a half weeks broke up with her."
Logan turned around slowly, and snapped, "What are you talking about?"
"This," the woman held up the newspaper. "The rate of suicide has spiked."
Logan stared bewildered at the newspaper. Instead of a rough sketch of him, there was a picture of a high school girl with friends smiling and then another picture of her dead in the bathtub with slit wrists. He looked up at the woman and requested, "Can I have that?"
A/N: I've had this story bouncing around my head for over a year almost, so I hoped you like it. and now remains the question what really happen to Logan? feedback would be great and I hope you really did like it.