Wolf, wolverine, and a canary

NIGHTMARE
olf couldn't summon the happening to his mind. He couldn't recall falling asleep. Not even how he came to standing in front of Logan, not even why he was there in the first place. He could feel the warmth coming from the flames which covered his brother's arms and he could feel it crash against his skin just like the coldness which followed quickly afterwards. Then, he looked up, stared ahead, and let a smile tug at his lips. It was like he was staring into a mirror, but which wasn't there at all and nor was it real. It was as real as his name was and as from what he could remember, he d changed his name exactly how his brother had done too - why risk being attacked and losing due of a name which is your weak spot? He couldn't even remember his real name; he couldn't even remember why his brother was called Logan; he could only remember the fact that he d a name, he was sixteen, and the bits of cement and metal moving round him were controlled by his mind. They didn't say anything. They only moved, slowly, one backwards and one forwards. Wolf was fascinated by the fact that the flames didn't seem to burn Logan's skin, instead wrapping skillfully around them and rising high around his shoulders as some kind of soft, hot material he couldn't touch;

although he wanted to reach out and press his fingers against his brother's arm, he managed to stop himself in time and tilted his head to the side. Meeting you again, am I? he asked on a soft tone, giggling like a child. I hoped we'd never meet again under those circumstances. I hoped the same, said Logan, before scornfully adding the last word, brother. Before he knew it, the flames leapt at him and the only thing he managed to do wasHe woke up, breathless, finding out that he was sitting up and staring ahead in the darkness. After a couple of seconds of not being able to inhale or exhale at all, he breathed in sharply - perhaps a little bit too sharp - and fell back on the pillows, clenching his fists around the edge of the blanket and trying to stop himself from panicking. The dream was the same as always. He, above the ground, facing his brother, also above the ground; that was all. Never something more than that, not even details, though he knew why his name was Wolf and his brother's was Logan and why they could control the things flying around them and the fire. They had abilities - special abilities - and they had begun training them to the point where they could use them to fight since they had gotten the flyer to a boarding school somewhere near Sacramento, California, a school for kids with special abilities. In other words, a place where the Government was going to train the youngsters into the arts of the war. Or, that's

what he thought it was. What was the point in making a school for people who had mutations if it wasn't to test, train them and rank them by ability? Questions like those wandered through his mind at late night, just like now, after that nightmare, but he always seemed to forget them in the morning, together with the dream. The truth was that he d had the nightmare since four weeks ago, since the flyer had arrived at their house and he d first read it. He pressed his hands against his face and ran them repeatedly through his hair, his eyes stinging slightly. Frightened. Afraid. Astonished by his own dreams, confused by the fact that nobody was there to explain anything to him and why he could control everything with his mind; why he could do that without any energy being lost, why he was even able to see into people's mind as if there were open books. But ... if he looked deep down, he couldn't admit that he did not like it. He liked it. He enjoyed to see the thoughts running through the brain, the way people gazed at him with fear when he replied to the questions seen in their brains. Arrogance was a word that could describe him entirely in one short and, of course, he knew that. He knew that as well as the fact that though he was arrogant, he wasn't selfish and he didn't want things for himself. No, that wasn't the problem at all: he wanted things for him and his brother. Why? Because he couldn't live without him and, anyway, they were twins, they were each other's mirrors, they were the reflections of each other; in other words, identical, as identical as two persons with perfect twin genes could be. Of course, there was indeed a 'but': there were other twins on the world, maybe so many more than they could have even imagined; why were they so special, so amazing?

Wolf -- he was already using his name for the boarding school, no big deal, since he felt like he was in a new, very realistic X-Men movie and like Wolverine, who was his and his brother's favourite character, he had to have a second name -and Logan -- again, the same pathetic excuse of having the same hero -- had powers. Powers which were so rare they weren't even listed in the flyer, together with all the others. Powers which they had always thought to be unimaginable before discovering that they had them and mediocre afterwards, as every single person would. But, if Wolf thought more about his power, it was pretty good. How many other people could be telekinetic, telepathic and basically do every single thing with the power of their mind? None, except him. His brother had a great power as well; yes, he had one which could win against Wolf s in a fight at any time and no, it was simple enough for one to guess. He could control the fire. Both his and Wolf s seemed and probably were the most common powers in the world which belonged to the genetically-altered human beings, but in the normal life, they were amazing. It was true, probably, but Wolf had no idea and he wasn't going to roll out of his warm bed and stumble over to his brother's to wake him up and ask him a question which would most likely earn him a nice punch in the face. Which he wouldn't block, of course, because he wouldn't do anything to stop his brother from doing what he thought that was right. He might have been arrogant, but he cared about his brother and his opinion a lot and he certainly wasn't going to twist his wrist with his mind because it was his fault for waking him up and all that jazz nobody really cared about.

So, instead of getting a nice black eye, he turned on his other side with a squeak coming from his bed, tugged at the blanket and yanked it over his head, then curled up underneath it. It was warm, cozy and it was making him feel sleepy, but he knew that he wasn't supposed to fall asleep again and to see the next of the dream which he could only remember halfway through. Hugging his knees at his chest, the panic in his ribcage slowly fading away together with his strange, mixed-up emotion, and he found himself staring into darkness through a slit in his blanket. He raised one hand and flicked it slightly as he thought one singly word, though it wasn't at all necessary: Phone. It wasn't until he got smacked in his eye that he realized that it was flying to him and let out a low, exasperated huff as he rubbed where he d been whacked. A good way to get a black eye without it requiring a brother to annoy at four in the morning, how the digital clock in the phone showed. Too lazy to reach out and place the device down on the nightstand, he let it simply float over to it and place by itself down with a rather loud thud; in the other part of the room, he heard his brother stir and snort. There were less than six hours until they had to go and panic settled again in his chest, curling up and lying down over his ribs as some kind of big, strange creature which jabbed its claws into his flesh and didn't let go. They had tickets which had come in together with the said flyers, and they were going there by plane. Plane. The word echoed in Wolf s mind and he found himself from trying to make the panic transform into excitement to actually sinking in the feeling and letting it wash over him, making him frustrated and not calming him down at all. He hated planes, and that in the true meaning of the word.

He hated them with all his heart because every single time he was in one, he was near throwing up and was too scared to look any other way than ahead to sleep of talk with his brother. Oh, and there was also that time when he controlled the plane without wanting to and made it land into a tropical forest from Brazil instead of Washington, DC. His brother had to burn him on the shoulder - he still had the hand mark on it - to make him wake up from his trance and make him take the plane to Washington, before erasing everybody's memory. The possibility of waking up his brother early shifted through his mind for one split second. Maybe his brother wasn't asleep after all, maybe he was just doing the same as Wolf was - lying down and staring into space, thinking - or maybe he was simply awake and not doing anything in particular, not even thinking. Wolf leaned on his elbow as he half turned around and then sat up, hugging the blanket at his chest, sleepily gazing to Logan's bed, wondering if to say something or not. After a while of deciding whether to say anything or not, his mind telling him not to, he bit down his lip, frowned, and then cleared his throat slightly. Yes, I know that you're awake. Go back to sleep, said Logan from his bed and Wolf blinked in surprise. I haven't slept at all tonight and yes, you can go eat if you're hungry, he added as the other twin opened his mouth to say something. It's okay, I'm fine, no, I don't need anything. His voice was rougher than Wolf's, as if he d been smoking, though they both knew it was only a side-effect of the fact that he could control fire. The younger twin cleared his throat again and prodded the blanket awkwardly, frowning

down at it as he listened to his brother talking about things he didn't really care about. I was going to ask you if you really want to go to this school, said Wolf, cutting Logan in the midst of his sentence. You don t seem like it. I know, said Logan after a couple of moments and Wolf was pretty sure he was scowling at the ceiling. You re not sleepy anymore, are you? he mumbled afterwards, and there was a squeak from the bed and then from the floor and Wolf realized he was walking to the room s door. Alright, I ll go take a shower you go do whatever you want. Wait began Wolf, but he was stopped by Logan s glare and his gaze fell to the floor. Okay. As the door thudded after Logan, he bit down his lip and frowned to the carpet, scrunching his nose up even so slightly. It was pointless, irritating beyond relief that he was scared of his own brother because of his stupid ability and he knew that he shouldn t have been like that, he should have persuaded him into discussing the problem about the boarding school; but it was too late anyway. They had packed weeks ago and they were ready to fly to Sacramento and meet the said woman who was going to drive them there. He wondered briefly who was the woman and what she did and tried to imagine her but his mind, never helpful, kept showing up an image of a Jean Grey which kept fading in and out of sight. He d no idea what that meant and frustration soon took over him. Gazing round him, he gave up waiting for the room to give him an answer and fell back on his pillows, arm under his head, as the lamp on the nightstand opened and

flashed warily a few times. It wasn t the best of his days, clearly, and since it had started with him being scared and annoyed at his brother, it wasn t going to change from being stupid to being good. It never did. But he had to get up, he had to eat, he had to shower, he had to dress up and he had to bear with five hours of flying. He could as well skip breakfast because of the amazing fact that every time he was moving without his legs doing anything he always threw up; so, instead of huddling up under the blanket, he kicked it aside and sprang to his feet with little enthusiasm, if not none at all. At least, he thought as he made his way out of the room, I have a cool mutant name.