Forgotten

Logan wasn't certain how he should react when he and the X-Men returned to Winchester, New York. It didn't feel right that they were there at all. Jean should be with them. Despite himself, Logan felt pressure on his chest, almost cutting off the air way from his lungs. He knew that the feeling was grief. Somehow he felt that he had felt that emotion before, but he couldn't remember his past life. Stryker had taken care of that. Stryker, Logan thought bitterly. He felt his adamantium claws struggling to come out. His first memory was waking up across from a dead woman – a beautiful woman, as beautiful as Jean was. He had felt that he had known her as well, but his memory eluded him. Just like now, with his grief.

Jean was the first X-Men who he saw. He remembered her short red hair, and startling green eyes. She became a very powerful mutant, powerful enough to stop the dam from drowning them all, and the world. Jean had sacrificed herself to save them. Damn it, Jean. Logan felt hot anger pulse through his body. Why? Why did you have to – He stopped himself from thinking of that. He was never good at that stuff. I suppose I never was, Logan thought wryly. He focused his attention onto the other surviving X-Men, who were shuffling out of the jet plane. Rouge was the first one he saw. He smiled despite himself, watching as she gently guided the frightened children inside along with her boyfriend, Bobby. Normally Storm would be doing something like this, but she was probably preoccupied in the jet. The Professor had already guided a grieving Cyclops inside the mansion, where they could talk privately.

"Storm," Logan called. He entered the jet plane. "Do you need help?" He could hear her heavy breathing as she was trying to lift something heavy. Actually, that something was a body.

"Logan," Storm said with relief and surprise, "help me here." An arm was draped around her shoulder. "We need to take him to the med lab."

Wordlessly, Logan put the other arm around his shoulder. Together, he and Storm lifted the unconscious form off his feet, and slowly made their way out of the jet plane. Curiosity pulsed through Logan's veins as he looked at the mutant. He was a couple years older than Rouge, in his early twenties. He was Asian, complete with short, dark, and straight black hair. His skin was pale, and his clothes were ripped and stained. "How do you know he's a mutant, Storm?" he asked.

"When Stryker's son tried to destroy the mutant population, we felt intense pain and ringing in our ears. The children tell me that he felt it too, but the pain that we felt was nothing compared to what he felt. He collapsed, and he hasn't woken up. The children tell me that he was already in there when they were put in that cage."

Logan remained silent as Storm talked. Although they had their differences, Logan acknowledged her abilities and her way with children. If the children told her that an unnamed mutant was there in the cage before them, then they must be telling the truth.

"Does the Professor know who he is?" he asked.

Storm shook her head. "The Professor tried, but there was a blockage. He can't hear his thoughts or see his memories." They were in the med-lab now, and with care, they eased the mutant down onto the table. Both Logan and Storm were fighting off their memories. Logan remembered when he had first woken up in the med-lab. He had been unconscious too. That was when he had first met Jean Grey. Storm was remembering when Senator Kelley had appeared to her, alone, as he called for her. She had watched him die. Both of them were lost in their memories until they both remembered where they were, and the unconscious mutant before them.

"You need to watch him."

"What?" Logan was deeply surprised, but it came out deeper than he intended to.

Storm sighed. "Logan, Jean would normally monitor him, but she can't. She's dead, Logan. You're the only one available that can watch over him." Before he could respond, she added, "The Professor is helping Scott, and I have to help the children. That only leaves you." She left him with the mutant without a backward glance.

"Damn it," Logan growled. Yes, Jean would be perfect for this situation. The only problem was that Jean was dead. They must be desperate to replace Jean with me, he thought, eying the unconscious mutant curiously. "So, we're here in the penalty box." The mutant didn't respond. "This is going to be a long day." Logan complained. He sat down in a chair beside the mutant and waited.

It was about three more hours before the mutant woke up. Logan was pacing by that time, fingering his cigar. He wouldn't smoke in the med-lab because…well, Jean wouldn't approve. He was starting to lose his temper. When would this bastard wake up? He glared at the unconscious form. Logan was about to leave the goddamned room as he saw the motionless mutant twitch. He leaned in closer. Just then a hand reached out and grabbed his shirt. The grip was strong, Logan noticed, strong as his adamantium claws. The grip pulled him closer to the now-awake mutant. Sharp brown eyes stared back at him. A growl escaped from Logan's throat, and the mutant growled back with the same fierce determination. Both glared at each other. Logan struggled free from the mutant's grip. Suddenly, the mutant stood up in front of him, and he growled threateningly again.

Logan peered closer at him. The mutant was older than he originally thought, twenty-four or twenty-five at the most. He was no taller than Logan himself, who was six feet and two inches. His skin had become less pale, and his eyes were dark with rage and confusion. Logan noticed again that the mutant had brown eyes, and he was startled to find that the mutant had the same eyes as him. Logan's eyes were also brown, exactly brown as the soil from the earth. He saw pain, hurt, anger, and hidden memories in the mutant's eyes, as those same emotions were in his eyes.

"What's your name?" Logan growled. The mutant didn't move. He snarled at the older mutant, and didn't speak.

"Nani itten da yo?" The mutant seemed to become more agitated then, snarling and balling his fists. He continued to glare at Logan, and screamed. "Nani itten da yo?"

What are you saying? The words that he said come quickly, as fast as the dam that had killed Jean. Logan had almost missed what the mutant had said. He was shocked to find that he could understand the young mutant. So, he's from Japan.

"Omae no namae wa nan desu ka?" The Japanese mutant stiffened, as if he were struck by Logan's claws. I asked him what his name was in Japanese. Logan was perplexed. How the hell did that happen? The words had just come out of his mouth.

"Boku wa Daken desu." I am Daken, Logan thought. It was odd that he understood Daken, when he had no knowledge of Japan or Japanese. The mutant – or Daken – didn't seem to trust him anymore than he had before. Although, his fists weren't clenched anymore. His arms stayed at his sides. This enigma is giving me a headache. Logan thought with exasperation. The Professor will know what to do.

"Ikanaide," he said to Daken as he walked outside the med-lab. Don't go.