Chapter 1: Of all the dives, in all the towns, in all the world…

Six months.

Six months since Logan hopped a plane and left Paris with an extra ticket in his pocket, discarded by the only man he's ever trusted.

Six months since Charles Xavier disappeared without a trace.

These days, he's not an easy man to find.

The little dive bar he owns is in a town nobody's heard of, in the Canadian Rockies just across the border from Montana. It's about as far from cosmopolitan Paris as can be, a sleepy little hamlet catering to truckers and locals that don't ask any questions - and want nothing more from Logan than he's willing to give.

Sometimes, a mutant will come to stay for a few days or a week; those in need of a place to lay low until the 'Network' can relocate them someplace safe (if they're young) or to another assignment (if they're part of the 'War'). One day it's a girl that can steal your powers with a touch; another it's a boy who can make ice from thin air. All of them arrive with a silver coin stamped with an 'X' and none with any news he wants to hear.

It's not his war anymore. And he's got nobody left to fight for.

"I'm here to see Logan."

Logan hears the voice through the thin walls of the back room, the space doubling as both storage and office in the tiny bar. It's not a voice he expected to ever hear again and yet it's the one that haunts his dreams. Repeating the same words over and over again, the last thing Charles said to him, the night…before.

I want to go away with you, Logan.

I love you.

It's the middle of February and the wind is brutal, the entire town buried under layers of sleet and snow. There are few truckers traveling through today and only a couple of intrepid locals willing to brave the storm for a beer. So the place is practically empty when he walks out and takes in the two strangers bundled in heavy winter coats, one slumped over a stool against the bar, the other propping the first man upright.

"Ah, here he is now," Remy says with a grin, waving him over. "This lovely gentleman was just asking for you."

The Professor – Charles – turns to greet him, the soft smile slipping away in the face of Logan's stony glare. They stare at one another in silence for what seems like an eternity, before Charles takes a step closer, gloved hands clenched by his side.

"Logan, please. Erik and I need your help."

Remy shows Lehnsherr upstairs to Logan's apartment, but not before the wounded man leans close and whispers in Charles' ear, pulling him in for a long, possessive kiss. He looks on, throat tight and heart sore, as Charles watches Lehnsherr take halting steps up the stairs.

"He's been shot," Charles murmurs, eyes bright with worry, "three times. With rubber bullets. I thought…he almost didn't make it."

Logan snorts, ignoring the sharp look Charles sends his way. "So I guess he wasn't dead after all?"

"No," Charles answers, shaking his head and running this hand through his damp curls. "He wasn't."

Charles follows him into the back room, stripping off his outer layers as Logan pours himself a shot of whiskey. He takes a drink, and then another, before turning to face his former – friend? lover? salvation? – fuck if he knows what Xavier is anymore, and growls, "Of all the dives, in all the towns, in all the world…why did you have to come here, Chuck? And why did you bring him here?"

"I'm sorry, Logan," Charles answers, sounding so goddamn proper and contrite it makes his temper flare. "We needed a safe place for Erik to recuperate while we wait for Hank's pick up, and yours was the closest."

"And you thought you could just drop in here? Just like old times and expect me to help you? After every…Fuck you, Xavier."

"Logan, I-"

"Shut up," he growls into Charles' face, his height advantage making him loom large and threatening. "I'm going to ask the questions and you're going to give me straight answers. I deserve the truth after what you did."

"Alright," Charles agrees, his eyes meeting Logan's steadily and without a hint of unease. He knows that he doesn't intimidate Charles in the slightest, his physical strength no match for the telepath's own impressive powers. And yet a part of him still wants to hurt Charles for abandoning him; to make him feel the pain Logan felt when he realized that Charles had lied. That he'd never intended to leave the Network to build a life with Logan.

That he lied about loving him.

"We thought Lehnsherr was dead. When did you find out that he wasn't?"

Charles sighs. "Only a few hours before I was supposed to meet you at the airport. Raven came with new intel that Erik was still alive and I…I had to go."

Logan shakes his head and snarls, "You could have told me. I would have gone with you! Helped you! Did I mean nothing to you? Was everything a lie?"

"You wanted out, Logan," Charles answers, "and I didn't want to drag you back in. I thought with Erik gone that…he needs my help to win this war. This fight is ours – his and mine."

"And you and me?"

"That wasn't a lie," Charles whispers, hands gentle as he cradles Logan's face. "I did want a life with you. I do love you."

The admission stings more than it soothes, the meaning obvious in Charles' words. He may have feelings for Logan still but he will always belong with Lehnsherr, the two of them side by side, in love and in war.

And there's no place in their grand destiny for Logan.

"You've got three days," he says, forcing himself to turn away when he wants nothing more than to take Charles into his arms and kiss those perfect, red lips. "Three days and then I want you two gone. Understood?"

He slams the door behind him as he exits the room, not bothering to wait for an answer.