A Worn Slate
Steve's eyes widened at the sight of Wolverine's face. "James?" He didn't expect to meet a familiar face after all these years. Had he been frozen as well?
Wolverine narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening. "Who the fuck is James?"
The man hesitated, shock etched across his features. "It's me, Steve. Steve Rogers."
Wolverine's scowl deepened as he tried to piece together the fragments of his past. The name stirred something, but it was like grasping at smoke. "Steve...?" He studied the man's face, recognition dawning slowly but obscured by the fog of lost memories.
"Yeah, it's me," Steve confirmed, his voice softer now, though the tension between them remained. "After all we've been through, don't tell me you forgot your Captain."
Wolverine didn't answer but kept his claws up.
Steve faltered. "James, what happened to you?"
"I ain't James," Wolverine snapped. "I go by Logan."
Steve's brow furrowed in confusion. "Logan, you know me. I was your squad Captain. I'm Captain America."
Wolverine shook his head. "Captain America? That can't be right. Everything I read said Captain America was dead."
Steve took a step closer, his eyes pleading. "We fought together in World War II, remember? We took down those Hydra bases and battled the Red Skull... You were always different from the rest of the squad, but not like me, not a super soldier. You were always willing to put yourself on the front line and take a bullet. It's like you knew you would be fine. I respected your privacy and waited for you to share your secrets."
Wolverine's eyes flickered with uncertainty, his resolve wavering. Fleeting memories of a past life, of battles fought and comrades lost, swirled in the back of his mind. But he shook his head, pushing the thoughts away. "I don't remember any of that. Besides, you're way too young to be a World War Two Vet."
Steve seemed to make a strange face. "Yeah... About that... I know this sounds weird, but I've been frozen in ice for over 60 years, and I just defrosted this month.
Wolverine raised a skeptical brow. "Right..."
Steve's expression softened. "James, Logan, whoever you think you are now, you're still the same man. The same fighter. Something must've happened to you."
Wolverine growled, frustration evident in his voice. "I ain't James, and even if I was, I ain't your soldier anymore." He paused, changing the subject. "What are you doing here, Steve? Why are you chasing the Wendigo?"
"It's my duty to protect the innocent, no matter what country I'm in," Steve replied firmly. "I was there when it attacked the town. I won't allow any more of that to happen.
"Well, the Wendigo is my target, and my target alone," Wolverine insisted. "I don't play well with others."
Steve huffed, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You used to act like that during the war, too, but you always came around. The squad wore you down eventually."
Rolling his eyes, Wolverine sighed. "You're gonna be a problem whether I like it or not. Fine. We'll work together. But don't expect any team-building exercises, got it?"
Steve chuckled. "Fine by me."
#
Wolverine and Steve crept through the wilderness, the snow crunching softly beneath their feet. The dense forest around them was silent, save for the faint whisper of the wind. Wolverine led the way, his keen senses locked onto the scent of the Wendigo.
As they moved, Wolverine broke the silence. "So, what happened with the Wendigo in town?"
Steve's expression darkened slightly. "I tried to protect the civilians. It was chaotic. Suddenly, four armed people showed up and started shooting and attacking the beast."
Wolverine's brow furrowed. "Four? You remember what they looked like?"
Steve nodded, his mind replaying the scene. "The first was a man in a tan and black bodysuit with fur accents. The second was a woman with razor-sharp fingernails. The third was a man dressed in red, with whips coming from his wrists. The last one was covered in a red and black full-body suit."
Wolverine groaned, shaking his head. "Did the red and black one talk your head off?"
Steve nodded, a hint of a wry smile on his lips. "Nonstop."
Wolverine sighed deeply. "Great. Deadpool. Just what we need." He glanced at Steve, his expression serious. "Be on the lookout. We aren't the only ones hunting the Wendigo. And we need to get to it first.
#
They approached a cliffside, peering over the edge. There, nestled in a patch of snow by a large rock, lay the Wendigo. The creature was bloodied and curled up, seemingly taking a nap. Its massive, hulking form was still intimidating even in repose.
Wolverine tensed, ready to launch himself at the beast. But just as he was about to move, Steve grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back.
"Wait," Steve whispered, his voice calm but firm. He reached into his knapsack and pulled out his iconic shield, the star and stripes gleaming in the dim light.
For a moment, Wolverine stared at the shield, an inkling of neurons firing in his brain. A fading image of a man in blue bashing an enemy soldier flashed in his mind. But he dismissed the thoughts, focusing back on the present.
Steve met his eyes, understanding and determination in his gaze. "We need to play this smart. If we charge in, it could escape or hurt more people. Let's cover the possible escape routes."
Wolverine nodded, albeit grudgingly. He knew Steve was right, even if his instincts screamed for immediate action. "Fine. You take the left. I'll take the right."
Steve nodded, his grip tightening on his shield. "Alright. On my signal."
They moved into position, silently flanking the sleeping Wendigo. Steve crouched behind a fallen log, his shield ready. Wolverine positioned himself on the opposite side, his claws extended and his senses on high alert.
Steve raised his hand, signaling Wolverine to get ready. They shared a brief nod, understanding passing between them. Steve then brought his hand down sharply.
Logan's eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a feral snarl. His claws extended with a familiar "snikt" as they emerged from his knuckles.
They moved in perfect synchrony. Steve hurled his shield, the vibranium disc slicing through the air and striking the Wendigo's head. The creature jolted awake, roaring in pain and fury.
As the Wendigo scrambled to its feet, Wolverine leaped from his hiding spot, claws gleaming, drawing the beast's attention.
Steve followed suit, charging in with his shield raised. The Wendigo turned at the arrival, but it was too late. Wolverine and Steve had it cornered, cutting off its escape routes. "Here it comes!" Steve shouted, bracing himself.
The Wendigo swung a massive claw at Logan, who ducked and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a swipe.
Wolverine countered with a slash of his own, his adamantium claws cutting through the Wendigo's fur and flesh. The creature howled in pain and fury.
Captain America flanked the Wendigo. He hurled his shield, striking the beast in the shoulder and causing it to stagger. The shield ricocheted back into his hand as he sprinted forward, aiming a powerful punch at the creature's midsection.
One well-placed hit sent Logan sprawling into the snow, but he quickly scrambled to his feet, his healing factor already working to mend the damage.
With a roar, the Wendigo lunged again, but this time Logan was ready. He sidestepped the charge, slashing at the creature's side as it barreled past him.
Steve saw an opening and threw his shield again, aiming for the Wendigo's head. The shield struck true, dazing the monster.
The Wendigo stumbled, blood staining the snow beneath it. In a last-ditch attempt, the Wendigo swung its massive arms at Steve.
Steve raised his shield in time to take the blow. The sheer force of it launched Steve into the tree line.
Logan seized the opportunity, launching onto the creature's back and driving his claws deep into its neck. "Stay down, you ugly son of a—" he growled, but the Wendigo bucked wildly, trying to throw Wolverine off. Logan held on tight, his claws digging deeper into the beast's flesh. The Wendigo thrashed violently, desperate to dislodge its attacker. Logan's muscles strained against the beast's powerful movements, every sinew taut as he fought to maintain his grip.
With a final, desperate roar, the Wendigo swung its massive arm back, managing to claw at Wolverine's side. Pain shot through Logan's body, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to let go. Suddenly, the sharp sting of multiple tranquilizer darts pierced their skin. Both combatants faltered, the potent tranquilizers working quickly to subdue them.
Wolverine and the Wendigo started to fall to the ground, their bodies heavy and unresponsive. Logan's vision began to fade, the edges of his sight blurring into darkness. Before he blacked out, he saw the figures of Sabretooth, Deadpool, Omega Red, and Lady Deathstrike emerging from the shadows. Wolverine struggled to stay conscious, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his old enemies.
Sabretooth and Lady Deathstrike moved in swiftly, beginning to restrain the Wendigo. Sabretooth glanced at Wolverine with a sinister grin. "Thanks, runt. We've been trying to take him down for weeks," he said, satisfaction evident.
Deadpool, ever the showman, waved enthusiastically at Wolverine. "Logan, buddy! It's me, Deadpool! I shot you!" he exclaimed, his tone a mix of mockery and glee. As the last vestiges of consciousness slipped away, Wolverine could only glare at Deadpool, the irony of the situation not lost on him.
#
The Weapon-X team had finished tranquilizing the Wendigo and Wolverine. Sabretooth sniffed the air, his feral senses picking up something unusual. He crouched down, examining additional footprints in the snow. "There was someone else here," he growled, "Someone with the Wendigo and Wolverine."
Deadpool, leaning casually against a tree, dismissed it with a wave. "Probably another one of the Wendigo's victims that tried to run away. No big deal," he said casually.
As if on cue, the sound of rotor blades slicing through the air grew louder. A helicopter descended through the canopy, sending snow and leaves swirling. Omega Red began securing the Wendigo in the cargo hold, his tentacles coiling around the beast to ensure it was firmly in place.
Lady Deathstrike, her expression unreadable, knelt beside the unconscious Wolverine. She gently caressed his face with her adamantium claws, a dark promise in her eyes. "We've completed both objectives," she said to the others. "We have both the Wendigo and Wolverine. We shall waste no more time and return to base."
Standing up, she glanced down at Wolverine one last time, her lips curling into a cold smile. "I will have fun with him yet," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the helicopter's roar.
Sabretooth's eyes lingered on the distant treeline. Suspicion was etched into his features. But after a moment, he turned away and relented, joining the others as they began loading into the helicopter. The aircraft lifted off, leaving the serene wilderness behind.
As the helicopter flew away, a certain blonde man stood hidden among the trees, following its trajectory with keen eyes. He didn't think about it at first, but it started to click. He had met one of them in the Italian Alps. He grumbled under his breath, his expression one of frustration and concern. "Dammit, James. What have you gotten into?" he muttered before disappearing into the forest shadows, determined to follow.
Years Ago
The bar door swung open, spilling light onto the snowy street as James staggered out, clutching a nearly empty bottle of vodka. He downed the last of it, tossing the bottle aside and watching it shatter against the icy pavement. The night was cold, but the alcohol coursing through his veins kept him warm. He stumbled towards his car, his footsteps crunching in the fresh snow.
A bald man in glasses and a heavy coat followed James, his presence unnoticed in the haze of drunkenness. As James fumbled for his keys, he turned around, bleary eyes locking onto the man.
"What do you want?" James slurred, his voice thick with alcohol.
Before he could react, two soldiers appeared from behind him. One of them swiftly struck James with the butt of his rifle, sending him crumpling to the ground.
"Prepare the lab. We are on our way."
Unconscious, James was lifted and carried into a waiting black van, its doors slamming shut.
#
"His vital signs are increasing. He's waking up."
James awoke to the sensation of cold liquid enveloping his body. He was submerged in a test tank, tubes and wires attached to his shaved head and body, monitoring his vital signs. Panic surged through him as he realized where he was. His heart rate spiked, and he struggled against the restraints.
"Now, Mrs. Hynes, begin the adamantium bonding process."
"Yes, professor."
"Commencing infusion," a voice crackled through the intercom. Clad in a lab coat, the scientist watched with clinical detachment as the adamantium bonding process began.
Liquid metal coursed through James' veins, causing his body to convulse in excruciating pain. Blood seeped from his pores as the adamantium fused with his skeleton, bone spikes erupting from his body in a grotesque display.
"Vitals are erratic but holding," another scientist reported.
"Excellent! Increase to the maximum."
Adjusting the settings, the infusion was pushed to maximum, amplifying James' agony. His screams echoed through the laboratory, the sound muffled by the thick glass of the tank.
#
James was locked in a cell, chained to the floor. His body still suffered from the brutal experiment, too weak to break free. He lay on the cold concrete, his breaths ragged and shallow. Pain wracked his body as his bones contorted, adamantium claws slowly and painfully extending from his knuckles. He roared in pain and frustration, reverberating off the cell walls.
#
Amid a raging snowstorm, James stood in the wilderness, with infrared headgear strapped to his head. The scientists monitored his readings from a nearby control center, their faces illuminated by the glow of their screens. He faced a massive brown bear, its breath visible in the frigid air as it rose on its hind legs, towering over him.
"Initiating mental conditioning and reprogramming," one of the scientists announced. "Begin combat assessment."
James' mind was a fog, but instinct took over. His claws extended with a metallic snikt, and he lunged at the bear.
#
Sabretooth leaned against a railing, his eyes scanning the row of fetuses growing in tanks, each marked with a letter and number. The eerie, dim light cast long shadows across the room, making the scene even more unsettling. "I don't care how long you had him, Professor; this is a mistake. I know him. He can't be controlled. You have his DNA, so just let me kill him," he growled, his voice low and menacing.
Professor Truett Hudson raised a flashlight at their new member, who was restrained nearby. "I'll take that under advisement, Sabretooth. Prepare your team for the mission," he said, his tone dismissive.
Sabretooth crossed his arms, his expression one of disdain. "Your funeral," he muttered before walking out of the room.
As he left, the newly named Logan turned his gaze to a tank labeled X-23, seeing a reflection of himself in a gray uniform. The sight stirred something deep within him, a mix of confusion and anger.
#
In the hangar, Deadpool, clad in a gray and black uniform, pulled a gun off the racks. "What do you say after the mission we kill all those floating babies?" he suggested with a twisted grin.
Omega Red groaned in annoyance. "Do you ever shut up, Wilson?"
Deadpool shrugged nonchalantly. "What? Babies creep me out." He aimed the rifle playfully. "Rock a bye, bamm!"
#
Logan was once more submerged in a tank for testing, the cold water surrounding him as he struggled against his restraints. Bubbles rose rapidly as he thrashed, fighting against the programming.
A scientist typed away frantically on a computer. "He's fighting the programming," she warned.
From behind safety glass, Professor Truett Hudson gritted his teeth. "We are losing control! Increase the dosage! Initiate lockdown procedures, and someone activate Sabretooth!"
Logan punched against the tank's glass, his adamantium claws cutting through it like butter. Water began to leak out, and with a final, mighty push, Logan shattered the tank, breaking free. Soaked and enraged, he slashed at an assistant, cutting him down before throwing another into the safety glass and cracking it.
Professor Truett Hudson backed away in fear. "Guards! Guards!" he shouted.
A feral Logan broke through the safety glass, sending Professor Truett Hudson to the floor. He extended his claws, advancing menacingly.
Professor Truett Hudson struggled to his feet as two soldiers burst through the door, guns at the ready. Hudson scrambled to the corner, but Logan was relentless. With a swift motion, he severed Hudson's right hand, causing the Professor to scream in pain as he gripped his bleeding stump.
The soldiers opened fire, but Logan was too quick. He lunged at them, stabbing both in the chest before they could react. With a feral snarl, he tore his way through the facility, leaving a trail of blood and broken bodies in his wake.
#
Logan finally burst through the last door of the facility and into the wilderness. The cold air hit him, but it was a welcome relief from the sterile confines of the lab. He paused momentarily, taking in his surroundings, before sprinting into the forest, finally free from his captors and the torment.
#
Sabretooth grinned as he repeatedly punched an unconscious and bound Wolverine, the force of his blows shaking the metal frame. "Wakey-wakey time," he growled. Logan groaned, his vision slowly coming back. He was in a large, cold room, his arms and legs strapped to a wall, and he was only in his underwear. The cold air made his skin prickle.
Off to the side, Deadpool leaned against a wall, twirling a bullet between his fingers. "Logan. Buddy. We missed you. Weapon X just hasn't been the same without you. Nobody calls me 'bub' anymore. And Omega Red's a bed wetter."
The door opened, and two figures entered the room. One was Professor Truett Hudson, his right arm now a mechanical three-pronged claw. The other was Omega Red.
"One day, I will tear out your flippant tongue, Wilson," Omega Red growled in his thick Russian accent.
"He's very ashamed," Deadpool whispered to Logan, his eyes wide with mock sympathy.
"Despite Deadpool's idiocy, Weapon X is indeed pleased to have you back, Logan," Professor Truett Hudson said, approaching him. "We put considerable time and money into you."
"And pointy things!" Deadpool added, twirling the bullet before tossing it away.
"You were our best operative, Wolverine. So disappointing. But you did lead us to Homocervus. Of course, you know him better as... The Wendigo," the Professor said.
"I shot him in the ass. With one of these," Deadpool said with a laugh, holding up one of his darts.
Everyone looked at Deadpool with varying degrees of annoyance and confusion.
"What? I did," Deadpool retorted, shrugging.
Ignoring the lunatic, the Professor returned his attention to Logan. "Weapon X has been pursuing the Wendigo for weeks. Unfortunately, there was some... collateral damage. If only Department H had sent you in sooner, who knows how much destruction could have been avoided?"
"What do you want with the Wendigo?" Wolverine asked, his voice a low growl.
Deadpool twirled his gun and placed it back in its holster. "We just wanna see what makes it tick. We could use some new pets around here."
Deadpool gasped as Omega Red wrapped one of his tendrils around Deadpool's neck, hoisting him off the ground.
"We want the same thing we wanted with you, Logan: a weapon," the Professor said. "I'll reprogram him, just like I did you. And then Weapon X will have one of the most powerful creatures on the planet at our disposal."
Logan just stared at the Professor for several seconds before growling, "You should have killed me when you had the chance. Because I'm gonna get out of here. I'm gonna kill all of them. And then I'm gonna cut out your heart."
The Professor stepped back, intimidated by Logan's fury. "Wolverine, after I'm done with you... you won't even remember this conversation. I've erased your life before, and I'm gonna do it again." He turned to walk away. "All you'll know is that you belong to Weapon X. Now and forever."
Omega Red released Deadpool and followed the Professor out of the room.
On his knees, Deadpool rubbed his neck from the strain. "That was so not cool. I hate that guy." He narrowed his eyes at Logan and walked up to him. "Ah, Wolverine. You look so sad. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, Lady Deathstrike tried to kill you while you were asleep."
Logan glared at Deadpool. "Better than having to listen to you."
Deadpool unholstered his pistol. "Man, she hates you. I mean, we all hate you. But Deathstrike really, really, really hates you. Hey, still have that unbreakable skull?"
Logan smiled, blinking slowly.
Deadpool put his gun to Logan's forehead and pulled the trigger. As expected, the bullet ricocheted and hit Deadpool in the shoulder. "Ow, damn it!" he yelped, clutching his arm.
#
Steve Rogers had spent days tracking the helicopter's path, driven by his determination to find James. The journey took him deep into the mountains, where the air was thin, and the cold was biting. Eventually, he came across an imposing compound nestled among the peaks. It was a fortress, well hidden from prying eyes and protected by rugged terrain.
From his vantage point on a rocky outcrop, Steve observed the compound. Several armed guards patrolled the grounds with disciplined precision, their eyes scanning the area with practiced vigilance. Tall fences topped with razor wire surrounded the perimeter, and numerous cameras were mounted on the walls and fence posts, their lenses sweeping back and forth like mechanical sentinels. The setup reminded Steve of the surveillance equipment he had seen in shops when he first woke up in the modern world. Only these were far more sophisticated.
He pulled out a pair of binoculars, adjusting the focus to get a better look. The guards were well-equipped, carrying assault rifles and wearing body armor. They moved in coordinated patterns, covering each other's blind spots. Steve knew he would have to be careful. This wasn't a place he could just charge into without a plan.
Scanning the compound, he noticed several key features: a main gate heavily fortified and constantly watched, guard towers at strategic points, and a large central building that seemed to be the hub of activity. Smaller structures dotted the area, some appearing to be barracks or storage units. There were no obvious weak points, but Steve had faced worse odds before.
Steve shifted his gaze to the cameras again. They were positioned to cover every angle, making approaching nearly impossible without being seen. He needed to disable or avoid them to infiltrate the compound undetected. His mind raced, formulating a strategy. He would have to move quickly and silently, using the cover of night and the natural terrain to his advantage. Times may have changed, but the art of war stayed the same.
Taking a deep breath, Steve steeled himself. He would find a way in. He would find James. And he would bring him back.
#
A/N: Special thanks to Seana, Jebest4781, Charles, vividlearner744, OmegaDelta, Henry Stickman, fearmegu, and Kitsune Robyn!
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