The Epic Cycle (I)

"-. 16 April, 1989 .-"

The smell of dew was in the air.

And not much else, unfortunately.

Well, for the most part. The car tracks, diesel and human scents at the front gate were so fresh that he could've reconstructed the whole "fight" in his head without even stopping for a breather. But he stopped anyway, just to be thorough. Then he continued into the front yard and took the long way around, passing by the spot where a barn must have stood until just a couple months prior. Oh, the story that scents and debris might have told. Unfortunately, he couldn't smell any traces of what destroyed the building, or even whatever or whoever had cleaned up after. The spring rains had long since washed away all the traces, and the new building material had taken their place. Too bad. It would've been a goldmine of information. A huge loss, considering that he had barely a few hours to personally vet these people by his and Charles' estimate. Not much time at all, especially when 'ask the neighbours' is the only option you have. No matter how word-abiding the unreasonably fearsome man of the house had proven to be so far.

Opportunistically helpful as well, which didn't help his paranoia any.

'Your blood for your Name.'

To be honest, so long as he was allowed to see it disposed of after, it wouldn't have taken much for him to part with a couple of pints. Hell, he might've given some just to be allowed to witness what followed. Even he wasn't jaded to literal resurrection. And using his blood as an ingredient for it made more sense than half the things he'd done throughout what life he could remember. But when the man dismissed a certain tearful father and threw that offer at him, he just couldn't resist.

'You are James Howlett. Son of Elizabeth Howlett and Thomas Logan. Scion of the bloodline of Romulus, who ruled the distant lads of Rome in the waning centuries of the Old Reckoning.'

It hadn't rung any bells.

In fact, that all told him more about Jason Quill than about himself. The wording especially. He gave the names of his parents on top of his own, so the man considered family an intrinsic part of identity. He also added that totally unexpected part about his ancient lineage, which implied things about the man's own lineage. Especially if he ascribed inborn royalty such intrinsic importance. Then there was Old Reckoning instead of BC/AD. Although he supposed Jason Quill not being a Christian was the least surprising thing about him after he brought a person back to life but did not then profess to being the second coming of Jesus.

Then again, maybe wizards just liked ye olde English, or whatever passed for it these days.

Of course, then the man decided to take some of his post-resurrection time to mind-talk with Charles Xavier on the way to meet him at the Blackbird – which Storm and Cyclops had parked in the woods some ways – after which he saw the X-men off. Without offering them hospitality, pointedly enough. Excepting him and Rogue for some reason. Whom the Professor, even more suspiciously, advised to at least hear what the man had to say before deciding one way or another. Wolverine had been all set to say no right there, but then the man and Charles worked together to somehow restore all his lost memories as soon as he gave them his begrudging consent. Between one word and the next, almost.

There was speed of thought and there was whatever that had been. Even Chuck had been surprised in that almost imperceptible way of his.

So now he could walk the memory lane as far back as 1885. And had to put effort into not looking at anything too ordinary or it set off some flashback or other, ranging from innocuous to ugly. In hindsight, taking a walk to town and back might not have been the best idea even if it was the only way to get information about the Quill household. Especially alone, much as it galled him to admit it. Fortunately, he'd made it back with a minimum of odd slips, thanks to Xavier having stayed at the back of his mind even across district lines. As a bonus, he got real-time updates as the X-men, Howard Stark and Peter Quill got together to deal with the trapped Sentinels and plan their counterstrike. Not so fortunately, Chuck had to (or was forced to?) withdraw from his head the moment he stepped back onto the Quill property.

Wolverine was starting to think he shouldn't have been so dismissive of Jason Quill's second offer.

'I offer you Xenia, that you may travel with me to places guaranteed not to prompt flashbacks or hallucinations of times past.'

The fruitcake hadn't even been mocking him.

Not that even that would've been enough for him to consider sticking around, if not for Rogue deciding to do just that. On account of some old man from the ass-end of Asia. Old man from the ass-end of Asia who portalled in the moment they returned from the woods and introduced himself as an acquaintance of Rogue's parents. The man then sat the girl down on a lawn chair across from him and asked if said parents were making good on their second lease on life.

That had been when Wolverine made off. Any further and something more serious might have erupted from his sudden wonderings about his family situation. Like a certain dead love by the name of Itsu and the son that may or may not be running around Japan somewhere right now.

That was without even touching on Creed, the Howling Commandos and all the Weapon X bullshit. The last of which being what had boiled his brain and caused his amnesia. To say nothing of all the other cans of worms that were surely festering all over the planet. Could anyone blame him for scoffing at Quill's claims of refuge from all that? There was literally no place on the planet that qualified. Unless the plan was to reverse-brainwash him, in which case the guy could take a hike.

His impending fall down memory ravine was derailed by Rogue, who spotted him and came to meet him on the way to the awning that had been erected outside. Only Quill was there right now, though he spotted Richard Rider looking down from the balcony on the upper floor. He nodded at him and got a short nod back as he passed. Gruff. Oh well, no skin off his nose. They'd probably all be invited out once the barbecue was done. Fair enough, as long as there was beer.

Which, incidentally, he'd made sure of.

"Logan, or ain't that James now? Whatcha got there?"

"Bread, sausages and beer." He motioned with his grocery bag and ignored Rogue's first question, knowing she'd get the message. "A good guests always brings as much as he's likely to eat. Maybe a little bit more. Covered your share too, in case you were wondering."

"Well look at you, already callin' up them manners you was taught in the Canadian outback."

"Japan actually."

"Wait, really?"

"Yep," the man said blandly. "I was a ninja. And then I was a samurai." There had never been such disbelief on Rogue's face. Not even when her parents first drove her up to Xavier's mansion and her first exposure to other mutants was Mystique sunbathing on the lawn. "True story."

"…We're gonna have to talk later. Lots."

"Sure." Later was fine. Gave him time to figure out what he'd keep out of the cliffnotes.

By now he'd reached his destination so he placed his offerings next to the rest of the food on the grill counter, to the understated but pleased approval of their host.

"Always nice to meet someone who understands the spirit of hospitality, and variety is ever welcome," nodded Jason Quill as he was laying out the first grilles. "You even went that extra ten feet to the local grocer! Just for that, I'll waive the self-reliance litmus test."

"Much obliged." Wolverine almost wanted to give him a nickname, but his newly remembered understanding of old-world hospitality rules stopped him.

"Litmus test?" Rogue asked.

"The shopping cart test," Quill 'explained.'

Wolverine rolled his eyes at that positively Spartan brevity. "The shopping cart's the perfect way to see if someone can be trusted with their own affairs. Returning the shopping cart's an easy convenient task that everyone knows is the right thing to do. There's also nothing outside a sudden, major emergency that can justify you not returning the cart."

"To return the shopping cart is objectively right," Quill summarised while seasoning the burgers.

"All the same, it's not illegal to abandon your shopping cart. So basically, the shopping cart's the apex example of whether a person'll do what's right without being forced to. No one'll punish you for not returning the shopping cart. No one'll fine or kill you for not returning the shopping cart. And you also don't gain anything by returning the shopping cart."

"If you return the shopping cart, it can only be out of the goodness of your heart," Quill said.

"Pretty much. You gotta return the shopping cart cause it's the right thing to do. Cause it's correct. Someone who can't do this is basically an animal. A savage who can only be made to do what's right by threatening 'em with the law and the force behind it. All in all, the shopping cart determines whether someone's a good or bad member of society."

Rogue all but gaped at the two of them. Then at him for having had the gall to say all that it with a straight face.

Wolverine looked back at her flatly. "Don't you be staring at me, girlie. You're the one who asked."

"Well sorry if that all sounds like it got pulled out of your heinie."

"Morality is a human invention," Jason Quill agreed sagely. "One of the best though."

Which morality though? Whose? Wolverine gave Quill a side eye, but the man didn't seem to be paying him attention in favour of flipping burgers in increasingly ostentatious ways. The wolf man motioned with his head for Rogue to follow and led the way to the back of the yard, not quite behind the house.

"Learned anything good?" Rogue asked when they were too far away for a normal man to overhear, but not too far away that he couldn't.

"Backstory checks out. The Quills have been a staple of the community for decades. Meredith Quill is a local girl from a working class family while Jason Quill is apparently the well-to-do naturalised newcomer with mysterious upper middle class income that's been the subject of much watercooler talk since the showed up back in '62. The only dark smear on the family's image is actually the daughter – with how conservative folks are around these parts, a leftie hippie like Meredith the Younger got no shortage of hairy eyeballs. Fathering a son out of wedlock to a man nobody ever saw only confirmed their misgivings far as they're concerned. Everyone I talked to today loved to complain about the 'useless, irresponsible, philandering beatnik' almost as much as 'that poor, fool girl' he preyed upon. Her kid isn't well thought of either – a cross between a troublemaker and the town wimp is the impression I got. The only reason the Quills are still viewed positively is because of the man himself – he's apparently as conservative as a Southern Texas gun nut and twice as sceptical of the government, foreign US policy and politicians in general. Half the town seems to think the daughter's absentee lover never showed up because Jason Quill 'problem-solved' him. Either for dishonouring his little girl, or for not making an honest woman out of her after. Or both. Get this, though – that kid she supposedly had but we've seen no sign of since we came here? It's mister 'let me smack them killer robots with one hand tied behind my superman butt.' The guy who went medieval on the Sentinels is actually Quill's grandson, but everyone I met today sounded like he was supposed to be eight years old or something. And did I mention the sudden, several months-long vacation the whole family went on last November? Vacation that nobody is aware they'd come back from? It's a good thing I neglected to mention where I was staying while I was 'passing through.'"

Rogue looked well and truly dumbstruck. "You got all that in two hours?"

"Small-town folk like to gossip." And he had a newly recovered lifetime's worth of black ops experience. He could also smell emotions and hear heartbeats, but she already knew that. "I'm more interested in old wise man from the east. Where's he at anyway?"

"…Portalled off someplace again." Rogue eventually said when she realised she wouldn't get anything else out of him. "Said he'll be back in time to eat with the rest of us."

"What did he have to tell you?"

"That I woulda been an orphaned on and off supervillain without 'im."

"… Okay, didn't see that one coming."

"I ever tell you 'bout my mom and dad? They used to live in a back-to-nature hippie commune in Caldecott, Mississippi. It's where I was born. Turns out they were plannin' on using some Native American mumbo jumbo to reach some place called the Far Banks. Woulda made my mom vanish into thin air and my dad end up so depressed he wouldn't 'a been able to take care o' me after, to hear the wizard explain it."

Wolverine stared at her. "You don't say."

"But wait, there's more!" Rogue said, fake cheer practically dripping off every word. "Apparently I'd 'a ended up being cared for by aunt Carrie, who woulda been even worse than dad – she'd've gone all tyrant on my butt cause 'o grief or somethin'. Long story short, I'd 'a run away from home soon as I turned fourteen. Then I'd 'a either travelled all the way to Canada somehow – where I'd attach myself to you like the most pathetic lost puppy – or more likely fallen in with a bad crowd y'all woulda had to fight on and off for years 'fore I got a reality check."

"… And you don't feel sceptical about any of this because…?"

"Mr. Quill let the wizard phone my folks to catch up while you were gone. They confirmed everythin' he said."

"Well… shit." That'd do it. Not the alternate life parts, but just the verifiable info was pretty iron-clad.

"Yeah, they were hella delighted to hear from 'im again too," Rogue agreed, half bemused and half confused. "Funny thing though, both lives my powers woulda activated the exact same way. Poor Cody."

Stop right there, deadly lady. That way lay misplaced guilt trips. Time to redirect. And wouldn't you know it, his ears gave him the perfect escape. His nose too. "We'll have to pick this up later. Looks like it's finally time."

"Lunch?"

"Lunch."

"That was fast."

"No kidding." More magic involved no doubt. Where there cook-fast spells? Probably just used fire to fry the meat faster though. And that's about as much effort as Logan was willing to put into figuring out that particular mystery.

They walked back to where the outdoor canopy had been deployed over a long lawn table, around the same time as Meredith the Younger returned with a pensive Richard Rider. He, in turn, was accompanied by a sullen Tony Stark pretending to be upbeat and in control of his situation. The pretense fell apart when he failed to even try to talk Rogue up, but Wolverine didn't point it out. No reason to encourage him. Or give himself a reason to pull his claws out in spite of the hospitality rules he'd agreed to abide.

The food was already on the table. Bowls of salad in between wide platters piled high with beef, pork and chicken meat, all cooked in various ways to suit… pretty much every meat eater's taste if Wolverine was to judge. Quill must've gone for the tried and true method of taking the meat off the fire increasingly earlier with every lot. Beer, wine and even milk was arrayed in bottles, mugs and jugs all across the table as well. The real surprise, though, was that there were paper squares with their names laid out as well, on top of the plates.

"Listen Rogue," the man said lowly as they lagged behind the other people clustering around their seats. "This all's been made to look like a casual 'let's get to know each other' get-together, but I don't need those name tags to know better. Be as congenial as you want but pay attention, pace yourself, and if you don't want to be blindsided? Do your best to time your bites to whenever someone is about to finish talking."

"You're really startin' to worry me, Logan."

"Courtesy goes both ways, and it's the only leverage we have right now. Fortunately, it doesn't seem like we need to worry about keeping secrets. Unfortunately, that's cuz these people – or one of 'em – already know 'em somehow. I don't suppose anyone's actually told you why the two of us are even here?"

"You're soundin' a lot more paranoid than even you usually do," Rogue said carefully. "You don't usually talk this much either. What's going on?"

"It'd take a lifetime to tell you," Wolverine said. "No, really."

"We really need to talk later."

"We sure do."