 
                           Weapon-X: Cougar 

_Weapon-X: Cougar_
 
_By Gambit_
 
 
 
 
 
_Chapter Two_
 
 
 
 
 
*I’m losin’ my damn fool mind, that’s what I’m doin’. *Mason thought as
he walked beside, and slightly behind, the man known as Logan. He
thought the guy was nice enough, but he still didn’t trust him. He
wasn’t the type that trusted quickly. In his views, trust was something
to be earned, not given.
 
 
 
Jean had given him a navy blue sweat shirt, which he accepted because
he had know clue where his shirt went. And had also offered to give him
a new pair of sweat pants, but he refused. He didn’t care if his jeans
were dirty, they were his. So were his boots. Jean seemed like a nice
enough lady. But that still didn’t explain why he hadn’t asked where
the front door was as soon he was out of the lab. The lab . . . God,
was he glad to be out of that place.
 
 
 
He was getting more confused by the minute. When he walked out of the
lab, it looked like he was in a military bunker. But when they stepped
out of the elevator that Logan had led him to . . . “What the hell is
this place?” He asked without thinking.
 
 
 
Logan smirked at the boy, remembering the first time he came here.
“It’s a school, kid. Fer mutants,” The boy just arched an eyebrow at
him. “Relax, kid. Yer safe here.” *At least Chuck’s not in his head
like he was mine. *Logan thought quite wryly.
 
 
 
“Name’s Mason. Use it.” Mason growled out, suddenly very aware how much
he hated being called *kid*.
 
Logan grunted and grinned inwardly as they walked. If truths were told,
he was beginning to like the kid- even if he did try to stab Jean. The
kid had guts. Not many people stood up to him like that. Logan liked
that. He knew that Mason wasn’t the type to take shit off anyone. And
he definitely liked that. Too many people at the mansion walked on egg
shells around him. Not that he hated that. In fact, it amused him a
lot. But it was nice to have someone talk to him without being nervous.
 
 
 
He watched Mason move out of the side of his eyes. The kid moved with
very light and quiet steps, even though he was wearing boots. His head
was held high and there was no fear in his eyes. Logan could tell that
he was more confused and curious than nervous or scared.
 
 
 
The kid’s tags were an anomaly to Logan. Where his said *Wolverine*,
the kid’s said *Cougar. *And had a serial number under the name, just
like his. The tags were piquing his curiosity something fearsome, but
he held his questions. He would get the answers he wanted when the kid
was more relaxed. 

 
 
*<‘**Logan**?> *The Professor’s voice echoed in his head, making him
stop in his tracks and growl. He hated people in his head. Mason
stopped as well.
 
 
 
*<‘Yeah.> *He sent back in an impatient tone. 

 
 
*<‘Are you on your way to my office with our visitor? Jean told me what
happened.’>* Xavior replied with a calm voice. He was quite used to
Logan’s temperament.
 
 
 
*<‘We’re ten feet from your damn door, so get outta my head.’> *Logan
sent this with a scowl.
 
 
 
*<‘Then I will expect you soon.’> *He replied once more, sounding
pleased, and finally leaving Logan’s mind.
 
 
 
Mason watched all this with stoic features. Then watched as Logan
motioned him to walk again. “What was that about?” He asked in a
gravelly voice. His sensitive hearing picked up Logan’s mutter. “Damn
telepaths.” Mason just nodded, not replying. *They better stay the hell
out of my head. *He thought with a scowl of his own.
 
 
 
Mason kept walking several feet until Logan stopped in front of a large
brown door. A wave of nervousness swept over Mason and he didn’t know
why. Then Logan looked at him, giving a twitch of a smile. Feeling the
nervousness in his stomach subside a little, he felt better.
 
 
 
“Chuck ain’t gonna bite ya, k– Mason.” Logan just barely caught himself
from calling the boy “kid”. *And the little son of a bitch is smirking
at me. *He then thought, a growl resonating from his chest.
 
 
 
“Please come in.” They both heard from the other side of the door.
 
 
 
Mason looked at Logan with a small glint in his eye. “First day here
and it feels like I’m being sent to the principal’s office.”
 
 
 
“Ya’are . . . In a way.” Logan commented, amused. And he had to let a
full-fledged grin spread across his face when he opened the door
because of the mutter Mason gave. “Let him try and pull out a paddle.”
 
 
 
Mason walked into the office and his first thought was simple. *For a
principal, the fucker sure seems rich. *The office was very plush with
a large leather couch and a very big oak desk, at which the man known
as *Chuck* sat behind. There was also a table with a chess board sat up
near the corner.
 
 
 
Mason looked at the bald man that was sitting behind the desk. Once
again, he wondered why he was bothering to see this man. Why doesn’t he
just leave? Then a thought came unbidden. *And go where?*
 
 
 
Truth was that he couldn’t remember anything but the fight in the
forest. Well, he could remember his name. That was all. Nothing else.
*I don’t even remember where the hell I came from.*
 
 
 
“Hello, young man. My name is Charles Xavior and I’m very sure that you
have a lot of questions. I’ll try to answer what I can. Please, have a
seat.” Charles Xavior said, waving to the two chairs in front of the
rather large desk.
 
 
 
Xavior was a little perplexed. Normally, he could sense another person
with his mind. But as far as his telepathic abilities were concerned,
this man didn’t even exist. There wasn’t a trace of anything. The only
reason he knew the young man was there was for the fact that he saw him
with his own two eyes.
 
 
 
Mason took a seat, as did Logan. Xavior began to speak again. “Would
you mind telling me your name?”
 
 
 
He stared at the man for a hard second before he spoke. Trying to get a
read on the man. This ‘Charles Xavior’ was obviously the one in charge.
All of his senses told him the man held no ill intent towards him. But
he wanted a few answers himself before he would give any to the man
behind the desk.
 
 
 
“Where am I?” His voice was gruff. Mason really intended to sound more
polite, but, because of his confusion, the animal inside was starting
to stir. Not enough to get out of hand, but just enough to put him on
edge, not to mention on guard.
 
 
 
Xavior looked over at Logan, who was obviously smirking and remembering
his first visit with him. “You are at my School. It is called Charles
Xavior’s School for Gifted Students. But the children affectionately
call it Mutant High.” Charles gave his own affectionate look at the
mention of the children.
 
 
 
Mason didn’t miss it. His senses already told him that this man was
good in his heart and cared about his students. He gave a little, short
nod at the answer. Then arched an eyebrow, as if telling him to go on.
 
 
 
Xavior gave a sigh. *And I thought **Logan** had the tough act down.
*He thought humorously. “It is also a place that takes in children that
have no where to go because of their mutant abilities ,” He paused,
clearing his throat. “Now, if you would not mind, would you please tell
me your name?”
 
 
 
The green-eyed boy thought it over for less than two seconds before he
came to a decision. “Mason Creed.” After he got out his name, Mason
watched with a very high level of apprehension and curiosity as
Xavior’s brow creased and his face gave a frown. But it was gone within
a second.
 
 
 
Out of the corner of his eye, he also saw Logan go deathly still. His
face masked in not one emotion, but his eyes were hard. As if he were
thinking about something (or someone) that he didn’t like very much. Or
down right hated.
 
 
 
Mason was at a loss. Had he done something to them and not remembered
it?
 
 
 
Mason’s knuckles started to itch, claws wanting to pop out by instinct
alone. The muscles in his body were tensing because of the tension in
the room. “Problem, Chuck?” He asked with a level stare.
 
 
 
“Nothing, it could just be a coincidence.” He stated, looking at the
tense boy in front of him. He looked, for all the world, like he was
ready to spring into a fight at any moment. “At any rate . . . I know
you do not know us very well, but I would like to ask you a rather
large favor.”
 
 
 
*Coincidence? What the hell is he talking about? *Mason thought as he
gave Xavior a blank look.
 
 
 
Xavior took the silence as permission to ask. He didn’t even know if it
would work since he could not even sense him when he entered the
compound, let alone his office. “I would like to enter your mind to
make sure of something,” Charles saw the glint form in Mason’s green
eyes and rushed ahead. “I assure you, I mean you no harm whatsoever. I
think you know that.”
 
Mason’s nose twitched slightly. He couldn’t smell or hear any ill
intent. And his instincts did not prickle at the question. Even though
he couldn’t remember anything about himself, he somehow *knew *that he
could trust those instincts.
 
 
 
He glanced at Logan, but there was no help there. It was as if Logan
was awaiting Chuck’s findings. Mason would never know why he did what
he did next, but he did it. The boy gave his nod of consent. *Losin’ my
damn fool mind. *His thoughts repeated for the seconded time that day.
 
 
 
Xavior gave a sigh of relief, wheeling his electric wheel chair around
his desk and towards Mason. Mason flinched back instinctively when
Xavior tried to reach out and touch his head. But he also conceded
quickly and let the bald man do as he pleased.
 
 
 
The Professor was more than pleased that he could delve into the boy’s
memories. What there was of them. All the boy could remember was the
forest outside the school. He was running from a mutant. One that
looked a lot like Victor Creed, but his fur was a deep shade of black.
There was a fight, the boy got in an amazing amount of hits, but in the
end he lost. The rest was his memory the blackness of sleep (or near
death) cascading over him from loss of blood. That and the nightmares
that were *very *similar to Logan’s.
 
 
 
He also found the boy was terribly afraid of what he called “The Animal
Within”. Mason also thought that he shouldn’t be around people because
of his abilities. *Hmm. *The Professor sat back with a half relieved
and half sad sigh. Relieved because Mason, as far as the boy knew, had
nothing to do with Victor Creed. Sad, because of the way the boy
thought of himself.
 
 
 
Logan’s body relaxed as he saw the relieved look in Chuck’s eyes. He
was pretty sure the boy didn’t have any agenda against the X-Men. His
instincts would have told him otherwise. But it was nice to get
confirmation from a telepath. Logan really did like the kid. Although,
*he *couldn’t even tell you why. Maybe it was just because he reminded
him of himself, a little.
 
 
 
Mason could feel the tension in the room go down to almost nonexistent,
but his didn’t. *This is the part where he kicks me out. No use in
having an animal stick around. *He thought bitterly. The thought
confused him. *And just why the hell should I care? I don’t even know
these people. *“So?” He asked with impassive facial features, like
whatever the Professor said next wouldn’t bother him one bit.
 
 
 
Xavior stared at Logan for a moment. Logan’s eyes lost focus, as if he
were having a conversation with someone. Then he nodded. The professor
gave Logan a brief smile then turned his attention on the boy again.
 
 
 
Mason awaited the worst.
 
 
 
“I have a proposition for you, Mason.” The Professor stated, wheeling
back to the other side of his desk. Mason gave him a look that told him
to go on. “I want you to stay at the school. We could help you in many
ways.”
 
 
 
Mason looked shocked for all but a second. “I’m not a charity case.” he
growled out, preparing to stand and leave.
 
 
 
“Mason,” The Professor started, before the boy could turn to leave. “It
would not be charity. If you would like, I’m sure there are many things
we could come up with for a young man such as your self to do.”
 
 
 
Pausing, Mason looked at the Professor, seeming almost interested. The
fact was that it was all an act. He really wanted to stay, but his
pride would not let him be a charity case. “Like what?”
 
 
 
“Anything from helping Logan with his self-defense class,” Logan just
grunted his assent to this. “Or helping out in the kitchen. The choice
is yours. But you will be required to attend at least four classes a
day.” The professor cut his class schedule in half because he knew that
the boy very much disliked being around people. And until he got the
animal under control . . . 

 
 
“Why are you doing this?” Mason asked, curiosity marring his gruff
voice.
 
 
 
“It is what we do. And we will also help you control what you call “The
Animal Inside.” The Professor responded in a kind voice. He did not
miss the flash of hope that was in the boy’s eyes. But it died quickly.
*He hides his emotions far too much for one so young. *Xavior thought.
 
 
 
Mason stood stalk still for close to a minute, thinking. *They could
help? Maybe. Maybe not. But I guess I ain’t gonna find out unless I
give’em a chance. *With those thoughts he made up his mind. “Alright,
I’ll stay. But if I don’t like it, I’m gone.” Even though the words
were tough, his voice was a tad softer than usual.
 
 
 
The Professor nodded and looked at Logan. Logan nodded back with a
scowl. He really did hate people in his head. “C’mon, Cougar. Let’s get
ya to yer room.”
 
 
 
“Why’d ya call me that?”
 
 
 
“‘Cause I hate the name Mason, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna call ya
*Creed*.” Logan growled out with good nature as they both walked out
the door.
 
 
 
What Professor Xavior did not tell the young man was that he was
putting the boy in the teachers’ wing of the school. He was fully
intending to have Logan spend as much time with the boy as possible. If
anyone understood the *Animal,* it was Wolverine. 

 
 
He also knew that if the boy was anything like Logan, he would be up
all hours through the night. Especially with those nightmares. The
Professor really did hope that everything would work out for Mason. And
he had a secret hope that the boy would be a calming influence on
Logan. The man just had bad manners. 

 
 
                              ***************************
 
 
 
“This is it, Cougar. Yer room as long as ya kin put up with the rest of
the lot.” Logan said with a dry chuckle. Thinking about what ‘the rest
of the lot’ would think about the young Cougar here. Truthfully, Logan
could fully understand why Chuck put him in the Teacher’s Wing. He knew
for a fact that the boy didn’t have the temperament to put up with most
teenagers.
 
 
 
“The Professor told me to tell ya that he’s sorry that it’s a bit bare.
But Rogue and Jubes will be here to fix that real quick like, as soon
as they finish their classes.” Logan added as he walked further into
the room. “But that won’t be fer a few hours.”
 
 
 
*A bit bare??? *Mason thought wildly as he walked around the room. He
checked out everything in the room. It had a queen-sized bed, its own
bathroom and a night stand beside the bed. Not to mention the bookshelf
on the far wall. Although, it had no books in it. He didn’t care what
the Professor said, it was still *far* more than adequate for him.
*Hell on a crutch, that guy must be loaded. *He thought with a shake of
the head.
 
 
 
He watched as Logan walked over to the bed and sat down on it;
absentmindedly rubbing a space between his first and second knuckle.
Mason knew the feeling, he felt like doing it in Chuck’s office. 

 
 
Just then what Logan said hit him. Someone was coming to *fix *the
problem of this place being bare. But before he could say anything,
Logan opened his mouth and spoke again. And what he said made Mason’s
blood run cold.
 
 
 
“Ya know, I cain’t remember a damn thing about my past either,” He
started, still rubbing his knuckles. *Damn it! I ain’t used to this
talkin’ shit. At least not with guys. *“I’ve been searching for my past
fer fifteen *long *damn years,” He looked Mason directly in the eyes.
“Anythin’ ya could tell me about what ya remember might help a lot,
Cougar.”
 
Mason didn’t object to the name *Cougar. *In fact, it was starting to
grow on him. There was a desk against the wall that had a chair under
it. Mason pulled out the chair and turned it around so the back of it
was in front of him and his arms were resting on top. Mason hated
talking about his dreams, but in truth, that was all he remembered,
save the forest and his name.
 
 
 
“The only thing I remember are my nightmares and . . . Well, it’d be
safe to say that I don’t like talkin’ about’em.” He replied in a very
quiet voice. It was almost subdued, all gruffness gone.
 
 
 
Logan looked at him with a sad smile and got up to leave.
 
 
 
Mason spoke before he could, though. “But you gave me a chance in that
lab. And I owe you. I pay my debts. Siddown.” Mason’s head was bowed
when he spoke, as if in deep thought.
 
 
 
Logan did as he said and waited. He could tell it was painful for the
kid to talk about it. Hell, he knew that it was always painful for him
to talk about, or even think about, his nightmares. He could imagine
what it would be like for a teenager. Even one as steely as the one in
front of him.
 
 
 
Mason began to speak in such a quiet voice, that if Logan didn’t have
sensitive hearing, he wouldn’t have caught it all. “The pain always
starts out simple, nothing but a prick of a needle in your arm. But
when whatever was in the needle hits you’re blood stream, you’d swear
by god that it was nothing but liquid fire.”
 
 
 
“The pain is so bad that you hardly feel the scalpels slicing through
your skin. But, oh, you do recognize it when they start fuckin’ with
your bones. Blending the metal with bone. That’s an odd feeling. Hot
and cold at the same time . . . But always painful. You go through this
for weeks. Then you hear the laughter. The congratulations.”
 
 
 
As Logan was listening, his hands were squeezed into fists, knuckles
stark white. He could feel the animal come up at the blind fury of what
those bastards did to this *kid*. And he knew everything the kid said
was true. It was the same thing that happened to him. 

 
 
Logan finally held up his hand to stop the kid from telling any more
details of the pain. He had to, or else he would have lost it. He
watched as Mason stopped and then he spoke. “Do you remember a specific
detail? One that could help me track the fuckers.”
 
 
 
Mason looked off into space for a full thirty seconds before he spoke.
“Most of them were just wearing lab coats. Some, had on guard uniforms.
None of them had any identifying marks. But one. He was wearing a blue
jacket, I could see it from the water tank I was floating in. It had
the letters H.O.H. stenciled on the back of the jacket. Whatever that
means.”
 
 
 
He watched as Logan’s eyes grew as hard as granite and a very loud
growl escaped him. “Oh yeah. I know what that means. Helpers of
Humanity. It’s an off-shoot of another mutant hatin’ group.” He got up
and started pacing.
 
 
 
Mason watched as Logan visibly tried to control the rage within. It
took him five minutes to succeed, but he did it. “Listen, Cougar. Rogue
and Jubes will be by pretty soon. I gotta go talk to Chuck.” And with
that, Logan walked out of the room before Mason could say anything. Not
that he was going to. He wasn’t exactly the talkative type. Or at least
he was pretty sure that he wasn’t.
 
 
 
“That went over like tree sap in winter,” He muttered to himself. Then
remembered what Logan said. He was going to have company. “Shit.” He
mumbled.
 
 
 
                                 *********************************
 
 
 
 
 
Mason laid on his bed and just stared at his ceiling for almost two
hours. Trying not to think of anything. But his thoughts always seemed
to come, and with them, worries. He was actually worried that whoever
was coming wasn’t going to like him. And for some reason, even though
he didn’t know his past, that just didn’t seem right.
 
 
 
Mason looked down at the blue sweat shirt he was given and
automatically decided that he hated the damn thing. He got curious and
walked to the dresser that was in the room. He opened up a drawer and
discovered he was in luck. There were t-shirts. He stripped the sweater
off and grabbed a t-shirt . . . Finding out quickly that it was a
medium. 

 
 
When he put it on, the damn thing was skin tight. *Damn. Well, at least
it’s better than that damn sweater. *He thought, glancing at the
mirror. The blasted shirt showed of every curve of muscle he had. And
he didn’t feel like showing off, especially at a school.
 
 
 
:::Knock. Knock.:::
 
 
 
Mason growled and said a few more curse words while he glanced at the
mirror for barely a second. His light blond hair was wild and unkempt,
and for the first time he really noticed how wild his eyes looked. *I
_really _don’t need some fuck nut visitors*. He thought with a scowl,
jerking the door open . . . Only to have his whole demeanor change. He
was one to appreciate beauty after all. 

 
 
                                        

                                       ********************
 
 
 
 
 
*Oh mah god. He’s more cut than mah **Logan**. *Rogue thought as she
looked at the boy she found in the forest earlier that day. He was half
dead then, but he looked *very, very *much alive now. She was a little
glad that she didn’t bring Jubilee along with her. Well, it really
wasn’t her choice, Jubilee said that she had to be on fashion detail.
Meaning one of her friends had a hot date and she was giving advice on
fashion.
 
 
 
Rogue noticed the tags that the boy was wearing over his *very *tight
t-shirt. They were almost like the ones that she was still wearing
around her neck. Then she noticed that she was looking at more than the
tags– like the chest behind them.
 
 
 
She blushed deep crimson, and in an attempt to regain some composer,
she stuck out her hand. “Mah name is Rogue. Pleased to meet ya, suga.”
 
 
 
Mason looked at the girl, who was blushing very prettily he thought,
with an amused smile. He sniffed discreetly and smiled. She used
vanilla shampoo. He thought that the white streak through her hair made
her look all that more alluring. “Name’s Cougar.” Was all he said
though, opening the door wider, so as Rogue could come in.  *If this
girl wants to use code names, I can go for that. *

 
 
Rogue walked into the room, regaining some of her confidence. *His eyes
are just as wild as **Logan**’s. *She thought with a smile as she
looked around the room. “Tha Prafessa was right. This room here is
bare. Ya should be glad he sent me.” She said, giving him the cutest
grin.
 
 
 
Mason would have rolled his comment at someone else calling the room
bare, because he thought the room was perfect. But he didn’t. For one
reason. That cute ass smile the girl gave made him even smile a little.
He wanted to see her do it again.
 
 
 
“Look at what I got,” She explained, reaching into her back pocket and
pulling out a Master Card. “A charge card. Me’n you are goin’
shoppin’.” She stated, waving the card before his eyes.
 
 
 
Mason took a step back. A low growl was in his throat just at the
thought of going to a public place. “I don’t shop, Darlin’.” Then
blinked at the endearment he used. *What the fuck am I thinking?*
 
*He even thinks like **Logan**! *She didn’t know whether or not to be
pleased or thrilled. But it was something to think about. “Well, ya do
now, suga.”
 
 
 
That’s when the girl did something that Mason would never forget. She
grabbed his arm and dragged him. He knew for a fact that if anyone else
had tried that, he would have likely ripped their arm out of its
socket. 

 
 
Mason was so shocked he let the girl with the white streak of hair drag
him out of his room. *Aw hell. Maybe I can learn a little more about
this brown eyed beauty if I go. *He rationalized. Mason didn’t know why
. . . But something just drew him to this girl.
 
 
 
 
 
                                         *********************
 
 
 
 
 
“That’s an ugly frown for someone so pretty.”
 
 
 
The sound of Logan’s voice made Jean almost jump out of her skin. She
was so engrossed with what the computer was reading out, her telepathic
abilities never picked up Logan walking into the room. Jean looked at
Logan, then back at the screen of the computer. “You’re never going to
believe this . . .”
 
 
 
Logan’s brow furrowed. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear anymore bad
news today. The professor basically explained to him that there was no
telling how long Mason had been in captivity. (Fancy word for lab rat,
if you asked Logan.) But he did promise that he would have his contacts
look into it. Logan guessed that was all he could ask of the man. 

 
 
But he still wanted to go hunt the bastards.
 
 
 
He also knew that he had to hear it. But just before he could say
anything, he heard Chuck’s chair just outside the door. A moment later
he saw the man come through the door. “You called me, Jean?” The
Professor asked in a pleasant voice.
 
 
 
“Yes Professor, I thought that you would like to take a look at these
yourself. They’re the statistics of Mason’s blood,” She replied, still
frowning. “And beside them are Victor Creed’s.”
 
 
 
“Oh my . . .” The Professor let out with a soft sigh.
 
 
 
“Yes. Mason Creed is indeed Victor Creed’s son.” She said softly, with
more than a little regret.
 
 
 
Logan just growled. It wasn’t from dislike of the boy, no, he still
liked the boy. It was for Sabertooth. *It ain’t right for a boy to have
a father like that.*
 
 
 
“That’s not all. Take a look at this, Professor.” With a few key
strokes Jean brought up a new screen. This one of various DNA sequences
and there meaning. She looked at Logan and spoke in Laymen terms. “He
can charge inanimate objects and make them explode on impact.”
 
 
 
The Professor just shook his head, a little amazed. Not many mutants
had more than one ability. It seamed that the boy had the ability to
shield himself from being found and also a couple of others.
 
 
 
“Ya mean like the Cajun.” Logan grunted. Thinking of the boy everyone
called Remy. The boy charged playing cards and made them explode. All
the girls swooned over the boy, but he just flat out got on Logan’s
nerves, kid or not.
 
 
 
“Yes, like Remy,” She turned to look at the professor then. “He wasn’t
born with the ability to hide from Telepaths and be able to charge
inanimate objects, Professor. His only natural mutations are his
Healing Factor and Heightened Senses.”
 
 
 
“It seems as if someone had plans for our young Mason Creed.” The
Professor murmured softly.
 
 
 
Logan merely grunted. “I’ll be the one to tell the boy. He might not
take it well.” Logan stated in a gravelly tone.
 
