Xander stepped out of the third hotel he had tried that night, his shoulders slumped in defeat. It was well past 1 a.m., and he was exhausted, sore, and more than a little frustrated. Every hotel he'd tried so far had been fully booked, apparently thanks to some massive convention happening in the city. As he stepped back onto the street, he could see the flashing lights of a billboard advertising the event:
"MIDNIGHT ECLIPSE TOUR - LIVE TONIGHT! Featuring Synthwave sensation: STARFALL"
Figures. Xander had never heard of the band, but judging by the crowds of fans milling around the streets, they were a pretty big deal. People were still out, even at this hour, decked out in band T-shirts and glowing bracelets, laughing and chatting as they headed back to their hotels or lined up at food trucks. It was like the whole city was buzzing with excitement, and Xander was the only one who didn't have a place to crash.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and glanced up and down the street. The thought of spending the night on a bench wasn't exactly appealing, and he was tired of wandering around aimlessly. Across the street, he spotted a small café with dim lights and a faded neon sign that read "Brewed Awakening." It was still open, and the idea of a hot cup of coffee was more appealing than admitting defeat and trying yet another hotel.
Xander made his way across the street and stepped into the café. The inside was cozy and warm, with a few patrons scattered around, most of them hunched over laptops or staring into their cups as they tried to stay awake. He ordered a black coffee, then took a seat by the window, watching the late-night revelers outside.
What am I even doing? he thought, taking a sip of his coffee. The caffeine didn't do much to ease the ache in his body, but it was better than nothing. He had left Blade and Cat behind, determined to find answers on his own, but now he was stuck in a city that was practically bursting at the seams. And tomorrow… he'd have to go back to the Institute and try to get through to Logan again. He didn't know how that was going to go, but he was out of options.
He was staring absently into his cup when a voice cut through his thoughts.
"Rough night?"
Xander looked up, surprised. A woman stood by his table, her head tilted slightly as she studied him. She had long, platinum blonde hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her eyes were bright and green, glinting with a playful curiosity. She wore a black leather jacket over a tight, dark shirt, and dark jeans that hugged her figure perfectly. There was a casual confidence in the way she held herself, like she belonged anywhere she decided to be.
"Uh, yeah," Xander said, caught off guard. "You could say that."
She smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made you feel like you'd been let in on a secret. "Mind if I join you?"
Xander hesitated for a moment, then gestured to the empty seat across from him. "Sure, why not? Not like I have anywhere else to be."
The woman slid into the chair, her movements smooth and effortless, like she was gliding. "I'm Felicia," she said, extending a hand. "You look like you could use a little company."
"Xander," he replied, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm, but there was a softness to it too. "And yeah, you could say that. Seems like every hotel in the city's booked up. Some big concert going on, I guess."
Felicia chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "Starfall? Yeah, they're kind of a big deal. Guess you didn't get the memo."
"Definitely not," Xander said, managing a half-smile. "I'm just passing through."
"Well, it's a shame you're stuck without a place to stay," Felicia said, leaning back in her chair. "But hey, you're not alone. Half the city is out wandering the streets tonight. Lucky for you, you ran into me."
There was something about the way she said it that made Xander's curiosity flare up. "Oh? And why's that?"
Felicia's smile widened, and she leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his. "Because I know this great little club that's still open. Good music, good drinks, and no Starfall fans in sight. You look like you could use a break."
Xander blinked, taken aback by the sudden invitation. "A club? I don't know, I mean… I've kind of had a long day."
Felicia shrugged, but there was a glint in her eyes that suggested she wasn't taking 'no' for an answer. "Exactly why you should come. Trust me, sitting here brooding over a cup of coffee isn't going to make your night any better. But a drink, some music… that might."
Xander considered it. He didn't know this woman, and part of him was wary—especially after everything he'd been through in the past few days. But there was something about Felicia that was hard to resist. Maybe it was the way she spoke, like she already knew how the night was going to turn out, or maybe it was just the fact that he was tired of feeling lost and alone. Either way, it was enough to make him nod.
"Alright," he said, setting down his coffee cup. "I'm in. Lead the way."
Felicia's smile turned a little triumphant, and she stood up, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "Good choice. Come on, it's not far."
As they walked out of the café, Xander couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Felicia than met the eye. She moved with an ease and confidence that reminded him of someone who had seen a lot more of the world than she let on. But for now, he was content to let her lead. It wasn't like he had a lot of other options, and maybe a little distraction was exactly what he needed.
As they made their way down the street, Felicia led Xander through a series of winding alleys, away from the bright lights and noise of the main streets. The city seemed to quiet down around them, the sounds of laughter and music fading into the background until all that was left was the echo of their footsteps.
"So, Xander," Felicia said, glancing over her shoulder at him. "What brings you to the city? Business or pleasure?"
"Neither, really," Xander said, trying to keep his tone casual. "Just… trying to figure some things out."
"Sounds mysterious," she said, arching an eyebrow. "I like that."
Xander chuckled, but he could feel her eyes on him, like she was trying to read between the lines. "And what about you? You seem like you're pretty familiar with the nightlife around here."
Felicia's smile was almost teasing. "You could say that. I've got a knack for finding interesting places—and interesting people."
As they rounded another corner, Xander noticed the faint sound of music drifting up from a basement stairwell. Felicia stopped in front of a small, unmarked door, and he could hear the low thrum of bass from somewhere deep inside. She pushed the door open, revealing a narrow set of stairs that led down into the darkness.
"After you," she said, gesturing for him to go ahead.
Xander hesitated for a split second, but then he shrugged and started down the stairs. He could feel Felicia's presence close behind him, her footsteps light and silent, and he couldn't help but wonder what he was getting himself into. But as the music grew louder, he felt a flicker of excitement. Maybe this night wasn't going to be a total loss after all.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the hallway opened up into a dimly lit room filled with the low hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. The air was warm and thick with the scent of smoke and spilled drinks, and the music was louder here, pulsing with a steady, hypnotic beat.
Felicia brushed past him, flashing him a quick smile as she led him toward the bar. "Pick your poison, Xander. First drink's on me."
Xander raised an eyebrow, surprised but not about to argue. "Alright. I'll take a whiskey, then."
Felicia nodded, signaling the bartender. "Make it two."
As they waited for their drinks, Xander couldn't help but glance around the room. The place was packed, but it had an intimate, almost secretive atmosphere, like it was hidden away from the rest of the city. He still didn't know what to make of Felicia, but she had brought him somewhere interesting, and he couldn't deny that he was intrigued.
When their drinks arrived, Felicia raised her glass, clinking it against his. "To new friends," she said, her voice smooth and playful.
Xander smiled, lifting his glass. "To new friends."
They chatted for a while, making small talk about the city, the convention, and the kinds of places Felicia liked to hang out. Xander found himself relaxing, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let himself get swept up in the conversation. But every now and then, he'd catch Felicia watching him, her eyes sharp and curious, like she was trying to piece something together.
After a few more drinks, the music changed, shifting to a rhythmic, pulsing beat that seemed to vibrate through the floor. Felicia's eyes lit up, and she grabbed Xander's hand, pulling him toward the dance floor.
"Come on," she said, her voice bright with excitement. "Let's dance."
Xander laughed, a little surprised but not about to refuse. "You sure you want to see my dance moves? I'm not exactly known for my coordination."
Felicia's smile was pure mischief. "I'm willing to take my chances."
As they moved onto the dance floor, the music enveloped them, the beat pounding through Xander's chest as he let Felicia lead. She moved with a fluid, effortless grace, her body swaying in time with the rhythm, and Xander found himself matching her movements, letting the music guide him. For a while, he forgot about everything—the frustration, the unanswered questions, the tension that had been gnawing at him for days. It was just him and Felicia, lost in the music, the world outside fading away.
They danced for what felt like hours, moving together in perfect sync, and for once, Xander didn't feel out of place. He didn't feel like the guy who was always one step behind, trying to catch up. He just felt… alive.
When the song finally ended, they were both breathless, grinning at each other like they'd just shared some kind of secret. Felicia leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I told you this would be more fun than sitting in a café."
Xander chuckled, still catching his breath. "Yeah, you were right."
Felicia pulled back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good. Because the night's not over yet."
Xander's heart skipped a beat at the promise in her voice, and as the music started up again, he couldn't help but wonder where the rest of this night was going to take them.
:-:-:-.
Xander groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, the dull throb of a hangover pulsing behind his eyes. His mouth was dry, his head was pounding, and his entire body felt like it had been hit by a truck. For a moment, he kept his eyes shut, trying to piece together the events of the previous night, but everything was a hazy blur. There had been drinks, music, dancing… and then… what?
He opened his eyes, squinting against the soft morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains. Slowly, he took in his surroundings—a stylish, modern apartment with sleek furniture and tasteful decor. Definitely not a hotel room. As he sat up, wincing at the sudden spike of pain in his head, he realized he was lying on a plush, dark gray couch, and, more alarmingly, he wasn't wearing a shirt.
"What the…?" Xander muttered, looking around for any sign of his clothes. His pants were still on, thankfully, but his shirt was nowhere to be seen.
Before he could piece things together, his phone buzzed insistently from somewhere nearby. He spotted it on the coffee table, blinking with an incoming call. Leaning forward, he grabbed the phone, glancing at the screen. Buffy.
"Oh, crap," Xander muttered, feeling a surge of anxiety. He hit the answer button, bringing the phone to his ear. "Hey, Buff—"
"Xander, where the hell were you last night?" Buffy's voice snapped through the phone, sharp with a mix of concern and irritation. "I've been trying to reach you for hours! You told Giles that you were dealing with a vampire lord trying to end the world, and then you just went radio silent. Do you have any idea how freaked out I was?"
Xander winced, both from the volume of her voice and the realization that he had totally forgotten to check in. "Yeah, sorry, Buffy. Things got… uh, complicated." He rubbed his forehead, trying to will his hangover away. "I'm fine, though. Everything's fine."
Before Buffy could respond, a groan came from behind him, and Xander's heart skipped a beat. He turned to see Felicia stretching languidly as she emerged from a bedroom, wearing an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts, her platinum blonde hair slightly tousled. She blinked sleepily at him, then smirked.
"Well, good morning, sunshine," she said, her voice low and teasing. "Looks like someones' had a wild night."
Xander's mind went blank, and for a moment, he forgot he was still on the phone. "Uh… yeah, I guess so."
"Xander, who's that?" Buffy's voice came through the phone, sounding slightly muffled but still demanding answers. "Are you with someone?"
Felicia's smirk widened as she heard Buffy's voice, and she sauntered over, leaning casually against the arm of the couch. "Oh, you didn't tell your girlfriend about me?" she teased, her tone dripping with mock innocence. "Should I be worried?"
Xander's eyes went wide, and he fumbled with the phone. "No, no, no, she's not—Buffy's not my girlfriend! She's just a… friend. A really good friend."
The other end of the line went silent for a moment, and Xander could practically feel Buffy's awkward confusion through the phone. "Oh. Uh… okay. Well… then I'll just… let you handle whatever this is," Buffy said, her tone suddenly strained and uncomfortable. "Call me when you're… free, I guess."
"Buffy, wait—" But before Xander could explain, the call ended with a click, leaving him staring at his phone, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. "Great," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "That could've gone better."
Felicia was clearly amused, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, 'just a friend,' huh?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "She sure sounded like more than that."
Xander sighed, slumping back against the couch. "She's not. Really. We just… have a complicated history. She's more family than anything…"
Felicia tilted her head, studying him with a curious smile. "Well, whatever you say, Xander." She stretched again, then nodded toward his bare chest. "You might want to put a shirt on before you show off anymore of those muscles. Don't want to give anyone the wrong idea."
Xander felt his cheeks flush as he looked around for his clothes. "Uh, yeah. Good idea." He spotted his shirt crumpled on a nearby chair and quickly pulled it on, trying not to think too hard about how it had ended up there in the first place.
As he buttoned it up, Felicia grabbed her phone and scrolled through it, still smirking. "You know, last night was fun. We should do it again sometime."
Xander glanced up, surprised by the casual invitation. "Yeah, sure. I mean… yeah." He wasn't entirely sure what had happened between them, but Felicia didn't seem fazed, and he had to admit, she was kind of intriguing.
Felicia stepped closer, pulling out her phone and holding it up. "Here. Give me your number. I'll text you, and we can figure something out."
Xander hesitated for a moment, then took her phone and entered his number. "Alright. But just so you know, my life's kind of… complicated right now."
Felicia laughed softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I think I can handle complicated." She took her phone back, then glanced at him, her smile turning almost playful. "Besides, I like a little mystery."
Xander couldn't help but grin. "Good to know."
As he gathered the rest of his things, Felicia watched him with a bemused expression. "So, where are you off to now?"
Xander paused, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I've got some… unfinished business. I need to head back to Westchester, to the Xavier Institute."
Felicia's eyebrows lifted slightly, but she didn't press him for details. "Sounds important. Well, good luck with that, Xander. And don't be a stranger."
Xander nodded, heading for the door. "I'll try not to be. Thanks, Felicia. For… everything."
"Anytime," she said, her smirk returning. "And hey, if you ever want to take a break from all that seriousness, you know where to find me."
As Xander stepped out of the apartment and into the bright morning light, he couldn't shake the feeling that Felicia had been playing a game with him all night—and he still wasn't entirely sure of the rules. But for now, he had bigger things to worry about. He took a deep breath, squinting against the sunlight, and started making his way to the train station.
Behind him, Felicia leaned against the doorframe, watching him go with a knowing smile. She didn't need to know every detail about his life to sense that he was heading into something serious. But for now, she was content to watch the mystery unfold from a distance.
As Xander disappeared around the corner, she chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "Well, that was fun," she murmured, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Wonder what kind of trouble you'll get into next, Xander."
:-:-:-:
Xander stepped off the train at the Westchester station, the midday sun doing nothing to alleviate the dull throb of his hangover. His head was pounding, and every clatter of luggage, every hiss of the train, felt like it was echoing inside his skull. The coffee he grabbed on the way out of Felicia's apartment had helped a little, but not nearly enough.
Of course, there's gotta be a full-blown convention in town, and I've gotta be dealing with mutant family drama, he thought, taking another gulp of coffee. He had tried to get some sleep on the train ride, but his thoughts kept spinning around Logan, around his new powers, and around that awkward phone call with Buffy. The fact that he still had no clear answers was gnawing at him.
He trudged up the long drive to the Xavier Institute, his mind swirling with a mix of apprehension and determination. He had come here for answers, and after what had happened with the vampire lord—and those claws—he wasn't leaving until he got them. Even if it meant getting into another argument with Logan.
The mansion loomed ahead, its impressive facade somehow feeling more imposing than the last time he had been here. Xander took a deep breath, bracing himself, and headed toward the front entrance. The place was quieter than usual, which he hoped meant he could find Logan without attracting too much attention.
As he reached the front steps, the door opened, and Rogue stepped out, nearly bumping into him. She blinked in surprise, then broke into a grin. "Well, look who decided to show up," she drawled, her Southern accent as warm as ever. "Y'look like hell, Xander."
"Thanks, Rogue. Always great to hear that first thing in the morning—or whatever time it is," Xander replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I need to see Logan. Is he around?"
Rogue's grin faltered, her expression turning more serious. "Yeah, he's 'round. But he ain't in the best mood. Not that he's ever in a good one," she added with a wry smile. "Somethin' happen?"
Xander hesitated, then sighed. "Yeah, something happened. And it's… kinda big." He glanced around, lowering his voice. "I've got powers now. Sort of."
Rogue's eyes widened, and she leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "Wait, you're tellin' me you got powers? Since when? And what kind?"
Xander hesitated, then raised his hand, the familiar pulse tingling beneath his skin. With a soft snikt, the dark, onyx claws extended from his knuckles, gleaming faintly in the afternoon light. Rogue's jaw dropped.
"Well, I'll be damned," she said, staring at the claws. "They're like Logan's."
"Yeah," Xander said, retracting the claws with a wince. "I kinda figured that out."
Rogue was silent for a moment, her eyes still fixed on his hands. "Does Logan know?" she asked, her tone more serious now.
"Not yet," Xander replied. "But he's about to. I need to talk to him, Rogue. I need answers."
Rogue studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, sugar. Follow me. But don't say I didn't warn ya—Logan's been a bit more prickly than usual lately."
Xander followed her through the mansion, his nerves tightening with each step. The halls were mostly empty, a few students passing by and giving him curious looks, but no one stopped them. Rogue led him down a corridor and through a set of doors into the rec room, where Logan was sitting on the couch, beer in hand, flipping through a newspaper.
"Hey, Logan," Rogue called out as she stepped inside. "Got someone here who wants a word."
Logan glanced up, his expression immediately darkening when he saw Xander. "You again," he muttered, setting the newspaper down. "Thought you were headin' back to New York."
"Yeah, well, plans change," Xander said, stepping forward. "We need to talk."
Logan's eyes narrowed, and he took a swig from his beer. "Ain't got nothin' to say to you, kid."
"Good, 'cause I'm the one who's talking," Xander shot back, surprising even himself with the edge in his voice. "Something's happening to me, and I think you know what it is."
Logan's gaze sharpened, but he didn't say anything. Xander felt a flicker of anger, the frustration from the past few days bubbling to the surface. "Look, I didn't ask for this," he said, his voice rising. "I didn't ask for these—" He raised his hand, and the claws shot out with a snikt, cutting through the air. "But they're here, and I need to know why."
Rogue's eyes flicked between them, her expression tense, but she didn't intervene. Logan's gaze dropped to the claws, his jaw tightening. For a long moment, he said nothing, just stared at them.
"Where'd you get those?" Logan asked finally, his voice low and dangerous.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Xander said, his frustration boiling over. "I've been dealing with this ever since I left here. And then, in New York, they just… came out. And they look a lot like yours, which is why I'm asking you, Logan. What the hell is going on?"
Logan slowly stood, setting his beer down with a deliberate motion. He stepped closer, his eyes boring into Xander's. "Kid, you're messin' with things you don't understand," he said, his voice a growl. "Whatever's happenin' to you, it ain't got nothin' to do with me."
"Bull," Xander snapped. "They're the same as yours, Logan! Same claws, same everything! And you're telling me it's just a coincidence?"
Rogue took a step back, her eyes widening as the tension between the two of them thickened. Logan's expression darkened, and for a moment, Xander thought he was going to lash out. But then, to his surprise, Logan's shoulders slumped, and he let out a heavy sigh.
"You think I got all the answers, huh?" Logan muttered, rubbing his temples. "Think I know why you got claws like mine? Newsflash, kid—I don't even know how I got 'em. My memory's a mess, always has been."
Xander's anger faltered, replaced by confusion. "What do you mean?"
Logan looked at him, his expression weary. "I mean, I've spent my whole life tryin' to piece together what those bastards did to me. The claws, the adamantium, all of it. You think I can just tell you why you've got 'em too? I got no idea, kid."
Xander stared at him, the anger and frustration draining out of him. "So… what? You're saying there's nothing you can do to help me?"
Logan's gaze softened, just a fraction. "I'm sayin' I don't got the answers you're lookin' for. But if you're dealin' with somethin' like this, you're gonna need to figure out what's happenin' on your own."
Xander clenched his fists, the claws retracting with a soft click. "I don't want to be on my own, Logan," he said quietly. "Not with this."
For a moment, Logan just looked at him, his expression unreadable. Then, he sighed and turned away, running a hand through his hair. "Look… I'll talk to the Professor," he said gruffly. "See if there's somethin' he can do. But I ain't makin' no promises."
Xander felt a flicker of hope, and he nodded. "That's all I'm asking."
Rogue, who had been silently watching the exchange, finally spoke up. "Well, look at that. Y'all actually managed to have a civil conversation." She smirked, glancing at Logan. "Might be a record for you, Logan."
Logan shot her a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "Don't push it, Rogue."
Xander managed a small smile, but there was still a knot of uncertainty in his chest. He had come here for answers, and he still didn't have them. But at least now, he wasn't completely alone in figuring this out.
"Thanks," Xander said, his voice sincere. "Really."
Logan didn't respond, just grunted and picked up his beer again. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't make me regret it, kid."
As Xander turned to leave, Rogue caught his arm, her smile warm. "Hey, you're doin' alright, Xander. Whatever's goin' on, you'll figure it out. We've all been through our share of weirdness here, and we always find a way."
Xander nodded, feeling a little lighter. "Thanks, Rogue. I appreciate it."
As he left the room, he could still feel Logan's eyes on him, watching, as if searching for something. Xander wasn't sure what Logan saw in him, but for now, it was enough that he wasn't turning him away.
The answers were still out there, somewhere, and Xander was going to find them. One way or another.
The tension in the rec room hadn't fully dissipated even after Xander left. It lingered in the air, like a storm that hadn't yet passed. After a few moments of contemplation, Logan stood up from the couch, his mind churning. Xander's appearance had stirred memories Logan had tried to bury, memories that didn't fit together neatly, like fragments of a puzzle scattered across his mind.
He had been through this before—scraps of the past floating up, vague and painful, only to sink back into the murky depths of his consciousness. But this was different. This time, it felt like those pieces were starting to form a clearer picture, and the image wasn't one he liked.
Logan went searching for Xander, eventually finding him sitting in one of the institute's smaller lounges, staring out the window with a lost expression. The room was quiet, bathed in the soft, dim light of the afternoon, and for a moment, Logan just stood there, watching Xander. The kid was clearly struggling, wrestling with something that had shaken him to his core.
Finally, Logan stepped into the room, clearing his throat. Xander looked up, a mix of surprise and relief crossing his face.
"We're not done," Logan said gruffly, crossing his arms. "Not by a long shot."
Xander nodded, his eyes serious. "I figured as much. So, are you actually going to tell me what you know?"
Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening.
Scene 4: "A Breakthrough - Unraveling the Past"
The dim light in the lounge felt like it was closing in around Xander and Logan, a small, isolated bubble of tension between them. They sat facing each other, both of them wary, like boxers sizing each other up before a fight. Logan was quiet for a long moment, his eyes shadowed and distant, as if he was seeing something far away—something he didn't want to remember.
"Look, kid," Logan finally said, his voice low and gravelly. "I've been through a lot, and most of it… I can't even remember. But there's something about you that's got me thinkin'." He paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied Xander. "Those claws of yours—they're like mine. And I need to know why."
Xander shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "You think I don't want to know, too? I'm just as lost here as you are. I've been walking around with these things under my skin, and no clue why they suddenly decided to pop out."
Logan's jaw tightened, and for a moment, Xander thought he saw a flicker of empathy in those hard, weathered eyes. "I get it. But you gotta understand somethin'—this ain't just about you. I've been tryin' to piece together my own past for years. People like us, we don't just get answers handed to us."
Xander's expression softened slightly. "So, what are you saying? That we're connected somehow?"
Logan hesitated, his gaze flicking away as if he was wrestling with the words. "I don't know, kid. But I can't ignore the fact that you've got claws like mine. There's a chance—small, but still there—that you might be connected to some stuff from my past. The same twisted science that made me what I am."
Xander felt a chill run through him. "You mean… the mutant X program?"
"Yeah," Logan said, his voice flat. "They messed with my DNA, tried to make a weapon outta me. If you've got the same powers, it could mean they were messin' around with you, too. Or…" He paused, and Xander could see the reluctance in his eyes. "Or maybe you're connected to me in a different way. A closer way."
Xander blinked, trying to process what Logan was implying. "What do you mean? Closer how?"
Logan sighed, and for a moment, he looked older, more tired than Xander had ever seen him. "Kid, I've been around a long time. Done a lot of things I don't remember. There's a chance… a real slim chance… that you're my son."
Xander's heart skipped a beat. "Your… son?"
"Yeah," Logan said, and his voice was almost a whisper. "I don't remember a lot of my past, but I was… James Howlett, once. If your mom knew that name, if she told you that's who your dad was, then we need to find out for sure."
Xander's head spun with the implications. His mom had said James Howlett was his biological father, but he hadn't been sure what that meant—until now. "You think… you're my father?"
"I don't know what to think," Logan muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "But if there's even a chance, we gotta find out. And there's only one way to do that."
Xander nodded, his throat tight. "A DNA test."
Logan gave a short, sharp nod. "We run the test, and we get the truth. But, kid… don't get your hopes up. If it turns out I am your father… I ain't exactly father material. Never have been. My life's too messed up, and I've got too many enemies. You'd be better off without me."
Xander's heart ached at the raw honesty in Logan's voice. "I'm not looking for a dad, Logan. I'm just… I want to know who I am. Why I'm like this."
Logan's eyes softened, just for a moment. "Yeah. I get that."
Without another word, Logan stood up and motioned for Xander to follow. They walked down the hall in silence, the weight of their conversation pressing down on them. It wasn't the silence of two people who had nothing to say—it was the silence of two people who had too much to say, and didn't know where to start.
As they entered the med bay, Hank McCoy was adjusting some equipment, his blue-furred face lighting up with a curious smile when he saw them. "Logan, Xander. To what do I owe this surprise?"
"We need a DNA test, Hank," Logan said, his voice clipped. "Between me and the kid. We need to know if there's a match."
Hank raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, just nodded. "Of course. If you'll both take a seat, I'll get the samples."
Xander and Logan sat down, neither of them speaking, as Hank moved around them, swabbing the inside of their cheeks. The process was quick, but the waiting stretched out, each second feeling like an eternity. Hank went to his equipment, starting the analysis, and Xander could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
The minutes dragged on, and the air grew heavier with every tick of the clock. Xander couldn't stop thinking about what this could mean—if Logan really was his father, if all the strange twists of his life had led him to this moment, sitting in a lab, waiting to find out who he really was.
Finally, Hank turned to them, holding a tablet in his hand. "Alright," he said, his voice calm but serious. "The analysis is complete. I have the results—"
Before he could finish, a loud, shrill alarm blared through the med bay, echoing down the halls of the mansion. The lights flickered, then turned red, bathing the room in a warning glow.
Logan's head snapped up, his instincts kicking in immediately. "What the hell…?"
Hank's eyes widened, and he quickly set the tablet down, moving to a nearby console. "It's an emergency alert. There's a crisis — unknown mutants are attacking the mansion.
Logan growled, already heading for the door. "Damn it. We'll have to finish this later. Hank, keep those results safe."
Xander's heart pounded, and he quickly got to his feet. "I'm coming with you."
Logan hesitated, turning to face him. "Kid, this ain't the time—"
"I'm not leaving until I get answers," Xander said, his voice firm. "If you're going out there, then I'm coming, too. I can help." He said as he followed behind the shorter man.
:-:-:-:
The mansion's hallways were filled with a tense, urgent energy as Xander and Logan raced through them, the emergency lights casting everything in a harsh red glow. The alarm was still blaring, echoing through the halls like a constant, ominous drumbeat. Xander's heart was pounding, not just from the adrenaline but from the uncertainty of what was about to happen. Whatever was causing the alert, it felt different—more deliberate, more targeted.
As they reached the main foyer, they saw several other members of the X-Men gathering, suiting up and preparing for whatever crisis had emerged. Storm was there, her usual calm expression now steely with focus, and Cyclops was issuing orders to the others, his visor glowing faintly in the dim light. Logan didn't hesitate—he moved to join the team, his entire demeanor shifting to that of a soldier preparing for battle.
"Logan!" Cyclops called, his voice carrying over the noise. "We've got reports of a mutant attack downtown, but we've also picked up activity heading straight for us. We might be dealing with a diversion."
Logan nodded, his jaw tight. "What's the plan?"
"You and Storm head to the front lines. We'll need you to intercept whatever's coming. Kitty and I will take a team to handle the situation downtown. We need to make sure it's not a coordinated strike."
Xander felt a chill run down his spine. A diversion? That meant someone was trying to split their forces, and it could only mean one thing—they were coming for the mansion. And if that was the case, there was no telling what kind of danger the students could be in.
Cyclops turned to Xander, his brow furrowed. "Xander, I don't know what your situation is right now, but we need to get everyone here ready. If there's an attack coming, we need to protect the kids."
Xander didn't even hesitate. "I'll take care of it. You handle what's outside."
Logan's eyes snapped to him, and for a moment, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. "Kid, this ain't a regular fight. If they're hittin' the mansion, it's gonna get ugly."
Xander met his gaze, his expression resolute. "I know. That's why I'm staying. You need to be out there, but someone's gotta look after the kids. I can do this, Logan."
Logan studied him for a moment, then gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. But you keep those claws out and don't let your guard down. These bastards won't pull their punches."
Xander managed a grim smile. "I won't, either."
With that, Logan turned and headed off with Storm, joining the rest of the team as they prepared to head out. Xander took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. The mansion was massive, and there were students scattered throughout—he needed to make sure they were safe and ready to defend themselves if it came to that.
As he moved through the halls, Xander found himself slipping into a role he hadn't played in a long time—protector. He had spent years fighting alongside Buffy and the others, but this felt different. He wasn't just fighting monsters; he was shielding the young mutants, kids who were still learning how to use their powers, who hadn't asked to be dragged into a battle like this.
Xander's thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash, followed by the distinct sound of glass shattering. He spun around, his claws extending with a sharp snikt, as he saw a group of students huddled together near a window. Beyond the shattered glass, he could make out dark, shadowy figures moving across the lawn, closing in on the mansion.
"Everyone, get to the lower levels!" Xander shouted, his voice carrying over the alarm. "Now!"
The students hesitated, their eyes wide with fear, but when they saw the seriousness in Xander's expression, they scrambled to move. Xander kept his eyes on the approaching figures, his heart hammering in his chest. Whoever was coming, they weren't wasting any time.
Before the students could make it to safety, the front doors burst open, and a group of heavily armed intruders stormed into the foyer, their weapons raised. Xander's breath caught in his throat. These weren't just random attackers—they were coordinated, moving with military precision, and he could see the telltale signs of advanced tech on their gear.
"Move, move!" Xander urged the kids, positioning himself between them and the intruders. He couldn't let them get past him. The claws pulsed with a faint, blue light, and he could feel the familiar, primal energy thrumming beneath his skin, ready to be unleashed.
One of the intruders stepped forward, aiming a rifle straight at Xander. "Stand down, and nobody gets hurt," the man said, his voice cold and mechanical through a helmet that concealed his face.
Xander's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I don't think so," he said, his claws extending fully. "You want to get to them, you're gonna have to go through me."
The man hesitated for a moment, clearly not expecting resistance from someone like Xander. But then he barked an order, and the rest of the intruders raised their weapons. Xander braced himself, his muscles tensing, ready to move. He could feel the energy building inside him, stronger than before, and for the first time, he didn't try to hold it back.
As the first shot rang out, Xander lunged forward, his claws slicing through the air with a speed and precision he hadn't realized he was capable of. The rifle was knocked aside, and he drove his claws into the intruder's armor, feeling the satisfying crunch of metal and circuitry giving way.
The other intruders opened fire, but Xander was already moving, his instincts guiding him as he dodged and weaved through the hail of bullets. He could hear the students shouting, could feel the panic rising, but he forced himself to stay focused. He had to keep the attackers away from the kids, no matter what.
Another intruder rushed at him, swinging a baton crackling with electric energy. Xander ducked under the swing, then countered with a slash that tore through the man's armor, sending him sprawling to the ground. The rest of the attackers hesitated, clearly not expecting this level of resistance.
"Go!" Xander shouted over his shoulder, his voice strained. "Get to the lower levels and don't stop until you're safe!"
The students finally broke into a run, disappearing down the hall as the intruders regrouped, their weapons trained on Xander. He could see more of them pouring in through the front doors, and he knew he was outnumbered. But he didn't care. As long as he was standing, they weren't getting past him.
One of the intruders, a tall man with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he sized Xander up. "You're the one we were told to watch out for," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "The guy with the claws."
Xander raised an eyebrow, his claws still extended. "Yeah? Well, you found me. Now what?"
The man smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile. "Now, we see what you're made of."
Before Xander could react, the man charged at him, his movements faster than any of the others. Xander barely managed to block the first blow, and the impact sent him staggering back, his claws sparking against the man's armored gauntlets.
The two of them clashed in a flurry of strikes, each one faster and more brutal than the last. Xander could feel the energy building inside him, pushing him to fight harder, to move faster, but the man was relentless, matching him blow for blow.
For a moment, Xander wondered if this was it—if he was going to fall here, before he could even find out the truth about who he was. But then, in the midst of the struggle, a familiar voice cut through the chaos.
"Get down!"
Xander didn't hesitate. He dropped to the floor just as a blast of wind roared through the foyer, sending the intruders flying back. He looked up to see Storm standing in the doorway, her eyes glowing white, her hands raised as she summoned another gust of wind.
"Xander, get the kids out of here!" she shouted, her voice commanding.
Xander scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding. "I'm not leaving you to handle this alone!"
Storm glanced at him, her expression fierce. "This isn't a debate. Protect the students—now!"
Xander hesitated, but only for a moment. He knew she was right. He had to keep the kids safe, no matter what. With one last glance at the chaos unfolding in the foyer, he turned and ran, following the path the students had taken.
As he made his way down the halls, he could still hear the sounds of battle echoing behind him. But he forced himself to focus, to push through the fear and uncertainty. He had a job to do, and he wasn't going to let anyone down.
They had come for the mansion, but as long as he was there, they weren't going to take it.