Well it's been a while hasn't it? One reader stands out above the rest when it comes to pestering me about this story, so Ashley, this one's for you. Nothing new really, but keep in mind that I'm trying my best to avoid the paranormal references in the movie. What I've done in this chapter is the best I could manage under that premise. I hope it works for you.

Journey to the Past

Logan pulled the coat tight around him as he was guided through the streets of St. Petersburg by his new companions, each man flanking him as they led him toward the train station. The coat smelled of dust, and though neither had mentioned where it had come from, it was obvious it had been taken from one of the rooms of the palace. He wondered who had worn it, who had felt the fur lining bristling at their neck. He wondered if he…

But that was enough of that. As willing as he was to go along with their plans, he couldn't honestly believe that he was the tsarevich. After all, he'd seen the papers in the morning when he tended to the fire in the servant's kitchen, back when he was much younger, the headlines boasting of the slaughter that had decimated the royal family. He remembered each of their faces: Olga, the strong one; Tatiana, the beautiful one; Maria, the kind one; and Anastasia, the innocent one. It was her eyes that he remembered the most, pleading with him to remember. But what, he still did not know.

His breath caught in his throat as he became aware of his surroundings, nearing the station, and Kendall looked up to catch his eyes, taking hold of his elbow for assurance. He'd already taken to giving Logan a nickname, Jack, because he was skittish like a rabbit. Though the accusation irritated him, the nickname gave him a sort of camaraderie with the other men, almost like he'd had at the orphanage with the other boys.

"Come on Jack, we don't want to lose you now," he reminded him gruffly as they approached the train. Now James was holding him as well, and both men were looking around suspiciously. He noted that they remained in the shadow of others, using taller men as shields from the officers roaming the station, before reaching the back of the long train.

Like much of their behavior, Logan tried to ignore it. After all, they were his way out. They were his way to the streets of Paris, whatever those streets held. Being alone and homeless in the city of light must be better than being alone and homeless in the cold Russian winter, he reasoned. Instead he focused on the steam rolling up from the tracks, visible like his breath in the cold gray winter, as well as the massive size of the vehicle that would carry them.

He'd seen pictures of course. No western novel was complete without the arrival of a villain or love interest to the local depot, but this was not cantankerous locomotive. This vehicle was fire and steel, like a great iron dragon ready to swallow them whole. It made him breathless, and slightly nervous that in moments he would be forced to board this beast.

James was first to notice his trepidation, alerting Kendall with a teasing smile, "Never seen a train before, have you Logan?"

James had kept to using his real name, or what he thought of as his real name. He'd also kept Fox, who was stowed safely in the carpet bag at the tallest man's side, appeased with some jerky James had procured for him. Part of Logan felt the dog was no longer his, but had no trouble handing over the duty to James when he was so pleased by the rambunctious creature. Hazel eyes showed Logan that he was only teasing him to steady his nerves, but Logan could feel his knees shake, though whether from his nerves or the cold he couldn't tell.

Kendall nudged him, "It's easier than riding a horse."

Thick eyebrows showed Kendall's amusement at his expense as they rose critically, and Logan frowned at the offence, "I doubt you've been within a hundred feet of a horse."

"Sleep in the stables on a cold winter night and see how close you get to the horses," Kendall bit at him, expression tightening, before he realized what he'd said and muttered, "Nevermind."

Logan wanted to ask, but instead he tried to argue as he was lifted by his arms onto a train car, followed by his companions, who pushed him down the corridor until noting an empty compartment, shoved him in. James looked out into the corridor to make sure nobody had seen them, before settling in on one of the two benches in the compartment, stretching out his limbs to fill the space. Logan sat next to the window on the other bench, sure to see the last of this bitter country as it passed him by. Kendall looked between them, before accepting the seat next to Logan with a huff.

Soon the train began to move, and as it did Logan's nerves subsided. He was comforted that his future was opening up in front of him, his destination at the end of these worn tracks. The cold white hills passed the window in silence, soon to be replaced with thick green grass that stretched for miles. He smiled, ignoring Kendall's impatient movements next to him. The man had brought a book, but Logan doubted he could read with any speed or agility.

After a glance toward the blond, he was assured of the fact, green eyes squinting in frustration at the lines in front of him. Weighing his options, he decided that it was worth a shot, and offered, "I could read it to you if you'd prefer?"

His eyes shot wide open before glaring toward Logan, who shirked back into the corner as Kendall charged, "I know how to read!"

"I-I'm sure you do. It's just, I'm bored and you seem to have forgotten your glasses," he said, giving Kendall a stoic way out. His expression seemed to soften, his stance relaxing, before he looked between Logan and the book.

Shrugging, he handed it to the other man, who read the name on the cover, Catherine the Great, "It's nothing like your cowboy books. I was trying to ascertain some facts about your ancestors."

His tone was teasing, but with no malice this time, "Right. I should be having you refer to me as Your Majesty, now shouldn't I?"

"Okay, Jack," he said, reaching for the book playfully with no intention of taking it. "You know just about as much about being royalty as I do. That's what we have James for."

Logan looked up at the other man, who was busy playing with the dog, using his body in attempt to obscure the animal from any passersby. James looked up at Kendall as if to tell him that since he'd brought it up, it was his duty to explain.

"James has some noble blood in him as well," Kendall explained with a grin, as if the idea of being friends with a nobleman amused him more than he could describe. "He used to go to parties at the palace with his parents. Rumors say he once flirted with the princess, Anastasia. But he was the source of the rumor, so I don't put any weight in it."

James smirked, "Believe of me what you will, but my charm is legendary."

Kendall scoffed, but Logan asked curiously, "What happened to your parents?"

The glee left James's face as his focused on his long fingers dragging through Fox's fur, "Just before the revolution they were smart enough to get out. We fled to Austria, then France…where I came of age. And then certain circumstances led them to disown me."

"Did you do something wrong?" Logan asked innocently, but with a glance to his distraught friend, Kendall tapped the cover of the book that was pressed between the other man's hands.

"Get to reading cowboy. Time to study up on your lineage," Logan paused for a moment to watch the emotion cross James's face, before he opened the book and began to read.

"I'm sorry, I can hardly keep my eyes open," Logan admitted, his fingers holding the page as Kendall watched him close the book. He yawned, proving his exhaustion, and Kendall took the book from him, folding over the corner of the page so they could continue later.

He set it aside, before instructing him, "We still have a ways to go. Why don't you rest them for a while?"

Logan looked like he wanted to argue, but ultimately decided against it. He leaned against the upholstered wall of the carriage and within moments he had fallen asleep, his breath audible in whispers between his open lips. Kendall grinned, watching as he adjusted against the hard wall, before sliding his arm behind the other man's body, nudging him toward his shoulder. In his sleep, Logan complied, nuzzling into the comfort of Kendall's arm as he dozed peacefully.

"Looks like we both got a pet out of this deal, eh Kendall?" James teased quietly, dipping his pen in ink once more. His business was punishable by law, but to anyone passing by it would seem he was writing a letter to some distant lover. Instead he was inventing names, birthdates, and nationalities for each of them in an effort to go unnoticed by the border agents.

Kendall glanced at the sleeping figure against him, before defending, "He didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"I wouldn't either if I'd learned I might by the lost tsarevich," James said, a trace of guilt in his expression. "It must be a lot to take at once."

"He'll manage," Kendall said harshly, glowering at James. "All he wants is a free ride to Paris. Once he gets there, he won't care how. Anything is better than St. Petersburg."

"Maybe after this windfall, you can finally-" James hedged, but was caught immediately.

Kendall scoffed, "Are you going to say settle down? Because you know I feel about that."

"'Homes are for the rich and the young'" James quoted back to him, rolling his eyes at the juvenility of the statement. "You can't run around like a thief in the night for your whole life Kendall. It's madness."

"Well we're both a little mad, aren't we?" he responded, telling James that the conversation was over. He shrugged before returning to his work. Kendall watched the scenery pass as his breathing synced to Logan's, calm and comforting.

He thought of a time when this all seemed impossible. Riding a train, trips to Paris, simply breathing, had once been an indulgence. He remembered a night much like this one, the snow falling thick on the ground, just after his mother died. His sister Katya had been sent to live with relatives in Moscow, but he'd been deemed old enough to fend for himself. Sometimes he wondered what had happened to little Katie, but he never doubted that she was better off than he was, begging for scraps from street vendors, seeking shelter in doorways on cold winter nights. He shivered at the memory, and caught James watching him, before returning to his work.

"He needs a last name for the papers. His name is an alias anyway, so I thought we'd let him keep it," James explained as he made up the rest of the information. It was no more than what Logan knew anyway.

Kendall stared at their new companion for a moment, noting how innocent he looked after all he had seen. He thought of the adventure Logan had always hoped for, the dreams bigger than the Texas skies, and he thought of a name that represented the man curled up beside him.

"Mitchell," he answered. "Someone I knew once left for America. They said they were going to Mitchell, South Dakota. They spoke of wide prairies and open skies. I wonder if that's anywhere near Texas?"

"I don't think so," James chuckled, and Kendall shrugged. James had studied with tutors all his life, while Kendall had possessed the basics of reading and writing, enough to get him by. For all he knew, Texas was a place made up for those stories. It sounded too good to be true anyway. James rolled the name over his tongue for a moment until it settled, "Logan Mitchell. Logan Peter Mitchell."

"It's as good a name as any," Kendall agreed, and James nodded before taking it down in his clear handwriting. It was the last of the forgeries to be finished, and he closed the papers into his briefcase before appraising his companions. Kendall was now leaning toward Logan's sleeping figure, drowsy from observing the swirling snow outside, the clacking of wheels against the tracks a gentle lullaby. Even Fox was curled up next to James, yawning sleepily, and he smiled before standing.

Kendall looked up at him for a moment as if to question him, so James answered gently, "I'm going to the dining car. One of us has to stay awake, and if it's me, I'm going to need some coffee first."

Kendall nodded in approval, before glancing down at the man lying against him. He seemed to question whether the position was compromising, before deciding that comfort was his primary goal, and Logan's warmth was more appealing than the solid glass that quartered off their cabin from the passageway. He adjusted himself to lean against the top of the shorter man's head. James watched all of this with amusement, before removing his coat and placing it over his companions. Kendall glowered at him for a moment, but didn't offer to return the coat, instead settling into it.

James sighed, wondering if even Kendall was aware of how bad he had it, before exiting the cabin, heading down the passage to the dining car. He tried to pass unnoticed as he usually did, but his good looks made it hard, and a few girls giggled in his wake. He couldn't help but smile, though he knew that Kendall would disapprove, as would another young man that he was anxious to see. If only he could make it to Paris.

He scratched his chin, which could use a shave before they reached the city. He'd thought on growing out his beard to hide his firm chin, but decided it was far too Russian. Maybe after this trip, he could be French again, and this time he could create a family that would accept him for who he was, unlike his own. Paris was far more liberal than St. Petersburg after all.

He slid into one of the booths lining the dining car and tried to call the attention of the attendant. As the man finally started toward him, he was interrupted by a table further down, which immediately took his attention. James turned to complain, before immediately recognizing the two uniformed soldiers that spoke loudly, ordering more food than they could ever eat, and he turned quickly, afraid he would be recognized. In his line of business, he could never tell how far his reputation had spread, and couldn't chance it, not with a briefcase of counterfeit documents waiting in his compartment. A compartment they'd never paid for. To make it worse, Kendall was asleep, and any signal he could give would go unheeded. He'd have to lie low just this once.

Opening the menu to hide his face from any passersby, he chose to listen, not chancing any sudden movements that would look suspicious. It didn't take much to hear the conversation the soldiers were having. They were boisterous, as if everyone was privy to the government's latest business. It was quite the opposite of the current policy, but he was in no position to complain.

"It's nonsensical, this new policy. The new travel documents will derail all international travel," one man argued, before laughing at what he'd determined was a clever turn of phrase. New travel documents? James asked himself.

The other man shrugged him off, "Maybe that's the intention. Close the union off from the rest of the world. Strengthen the borders."

"But it's too bad the old papers have been voided. It's so much hassle to get travel papers for my whole family. How was I to know that naming my son Nicholas would label me as suspicious? It was my grandfather's name after all," the man explained to his companion, and James blanched. The old papers have been voided. The words ran laps in his mind, and he could feel sweat gathering under his collar.

Finally, the attendant came back to his booth, apologizing for the wait before seeming to notice the redness of his cheeks, though his face remained set in stone, "Sir, you look ill. Would you like some water?"

James nodded, and when the man returned with the glass, he drank it quickly, thanking the man, who suggested, "Maybe you should get some rest before we arrive at our next destination."

He agreed, sure that the soldiers had noticed their conversation, but stumbling just enough to show his distress. One of the soldiers asked if he was alright, but he quickly responded that he was fine, before making his way to their cabin, sprinting as he neared it. The slam of the sliding door woke Logan up, and with him Kendall. The men glanced at each other curiously before jumping to opposite ends of the seat.

Kendall seemed to observe him sleepily before noting his distress, "James, what happened?"

"The papers," he said quickly, forgetting to hide their illegal activity from their naïve ward. "Red bastards! They've changed them. I don't know what the new ones look like, nor do I have the supplies to reproduce them if I did."

"What does that mean?" Logan questioned innocently, looking between them in confusion.

Kendall grumbled but began to gather their things, "It means we need to find a way off this train before it reaches its destination."

James tried to smile convincingly as Logan's eyes asked, He doesn't mean what he thinks he does, does he? To his credit, Logan paused a moment before following the others down the corridor, in the opposite direction of the dining car, back toward what he soon learned was the baggage car.

"Such lovely accommodations," Logan commented as Kendall threw his bags to the floor, seating himself on the lid of a large trunk. James was quick to check on Fox, who was rousing in the carpet bag, curious as to the change of scenery.

Kendall's look showed he was no more pleased than Logan, but was quick to tease, "So you wouldn't be forced to mingle with commoners Your Highness."

"I'm mingling with you aren't I?" he snapped, the words erupting without thought behind them. James snickered without looking up, and Logan could have sworn he muttered something. He was sure of it when he caught the angry blush on Kendall's face, and cleared his throat.

He looked to James, forcing his eyes to leave Kendall, who was now pointedly ignoring him, and asking, "So what's the plan now?"

James shrugged, instead looking to Kendall, who paused defiantly before sighing dejectedly, "How is it that I'm always the one stuck coming up with a plan when you get cocky?"

"Because you're the clever one!" James whined, and Kendall seemed to accept this as a suitable response. He set to thinking, pacing the floor before letting his fingers hover on the spaces between the boards where he could just make out the outline of the horizon.

"We'll have to jump," he finally decided, and there was a tense pause behind him as the other men realized that he was completely serious. He turned, ignoring the stunned looks on their faces and explaining, "We'll have to make it into Germany. There, the guards will stop the train to check everyone's credentials. While they're busy, we'll have to force the door and jump off."

"Just that easy huh?" James asked, his chuckles stunted with disbelief. "Armed guards roaming the train, and we're just going to dislodge a locked door and jump off? Great plan Kendall, glad we've got you."

Kendall glared at him for a moment, "I don't see you coming up with a better plan. It's your fault we're in this mess anyway. I told you to check the-"

"Guys," Logan admonished, just loud enough to draw their attention. He looked between them before reminding them, "We don't have a lot of options at this point. We can't change the past, so now we just have to focus on what's ahead. Like how are we going to get the door open?"

Kendall was struck with his words for a moment, appraising his quiet courage, before glancing around the car. He easily spotted a crowbar near the door they'd come through, and crossed the car to retrieve it. He weighed it in his hands, before trying the strength of it on the door. It didn't budge.

He continued to try, offering the tool to James as well, but neither could dislodge the door. Logan approached them with something else, some sort of hatchet, and they tried that as well. It did nothing but splinter the wood surrounding the latch, and as they continued to strike the door, they could all feel the wheels grinding to a halt. They were in Germany, they must be. And once again, their plan had failed. They were trapped.

"It can't end like this," Kendall grunted as he continued to strike the latch. Logan could tell from the stress in his voice that his past dictated a better end than this, and he wondered just what history his companion had faced. Kendall's hands were nearly bleeding with the effort, his eyes tearing up as he hacked at the door. Frankly, Logan agreed.

Quickly, he made another round of the car, this time noting a crate lodged in a back corner. The word stenciled on the side was in English, and he struggled to remember its meaning, but after only a few moments, Nobel's greatest invention was clear to him and his face lit up as he began to pry at the lid with his fingers.

He realized it was no use, and called out, "James, bring me the crowbar!"

James gave him a questioning glance, leaving Kendall to his fruitless attempts, and crossing the car with the crowbar. He too recognized the word, and set immediately to prying the lid open as Logan searched his pockets for matches, hoping that the previous owner of the coat had forgotten to remove them. For once, luck was with them, and he pulled the package from his pocket, three matches left in the box.

Striking one, it refused to light. He tried the same match again hopefully, with the same result. It was then he became aware of the shifting wheels. They were making ready to continue their journey into Germany, and it didn't take a physicist to tell them that they would never survive a jump from the train at full speed.

Quickly, he tried the second match. This time it caught, but a breeze from between the cracks in the walls blew it out before he could light the fuse. He cursed under his breath as James held out the stick, fuse unfurled, and he kissed the last match before striking it against the box. This time it lit and stayed lit, and he quickly lit the fuse, jumping over trunks and crates to make it to the door.

"Get down!" he warned Kendall, who caught on slowly, and Logan only had a moment to place the dynamite before rolling both of them to safety across the car, his body protecting Kendall's as the blast went off.

It was small as explosions go, but managed to dislodge the door, just as the wheels began to turn. Kendall looked up at him for a moment, stunned, before stuttering, "If we survive this, remind me to thank you."

"Thank me when we're on the ground," he said, pulling the other man up to find James grabbing bags, hand tight on the carpet bag that held their smallest companion. They did the same, sure not to forget any of their luggage, before approaching the edge of the car, watching as the ground began to move beneath them. "We have to jump."

James nodded nervously, but looked between them, "Together?"

They all nodded in agreement, before reaching to link arms, then releasing what was likened to a battle cry, leaping in unison from the car and landing in the soft recently-fallen snow. James managed to land on his feet, and was quick to check for the dog, who looked up at him from the bottom of the suitcase, unfazed by their recent troubles. Kendall and Logan had landed together in a tangle, and quickly removed their limbs from their precarious positions. Kendall stood haughtily before helping up the other man, who nodded in thanks.

"So what's next maestro?" Logan asked, appraising what seemed to be a stretch of snow-covered land that went on for miles. Kendall could do little more than glare as he brushed the snow from his arms and legs, using the time to think.

"Well we have to find a way to France Jack," he said, smiling with sarcastic obligation, before noting, "But we are most certainly not taking the train."