**06.30 GMT-6, 16 March 1996, Somewhere in Saskatchewan. CANADA.**
ROGUE
She sat nearby, not too close, giving the shivering man–Banner some space. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, with all the... well, everythin'," she said, gesturing vaguely at the destruction. "I'm Marie. That's my husband, Logan." Logan, who was inspecting the damage to the truck's fender, gave a curt grunt without looking up.
She nodded towards the children. "The one with the motormouth is our oldest, Wade. The little ones are Ken, and our daughter, Laura."
On cue, Wade waved enthusiastically. Ken, standing near him, snickered mockingly at his brother. Laura just stared from behind the safety of Wade's leg.
"We're... mutants," Marie continued, the word feeling both heavy and freeing to say aloud. She kept her tone gentle but firm. "Don't worry about hurtin' us. Like Wade said, we are pretty durable. You wouldn't hurt us that easily."
Banner looked up, meeting her gaze. The fear and persecution she hinted at seemed to resonate with a deep, familiar chord within him. "I... I understand," he said, his voice hoarse. "Not the same, but... I understand." He took a shaky breath. "I'm not a mutant. My... condition... was man-made. An accident. Gamma radiation. They were trying to make a new supersoldier serum, but it backfired on me. Badly. It... it made me into him."
"..."
He began to talk then, haltingly at first, then with a quiet, desperate intensity. He spoke of the lab, the explosion, the birth of the "Other Guy." He told them about General Ross, the endless chase, the constant fear of losing control and the destruction that always followed. He was a monster created by science, hunted for what he couldn't control.
When Banner finished, the fire seemed to burn a little lower. Logan moved to her side, his voice a low, intent rumble meant for her ears alone.
"You heard him, Marie. The running. The being hunted." He glanced back at the ruined cabin, his jaw tight. "The guys from the lab... They ain't just gonna stop. Seein' the state of this cabin... They've been here before. We need to keep moving."
"The trailer and the motels last month... it wasn't so bad wasn't it?" Logan continued, his gaze settling on her, looking for agreement. "We could head south. Find somewhere warmer. I guess we could try to find somewhere more secure, further away from them…"
Marie looked from her husband's hardened, worried face to her children. She saw Laura quietly playing with Wade's–well, her unicorn now, Ken and Wade already bickering about something like always. Her shoulders slumped in a sigh of profound resignation. She placed a hand on Logan's arm. "You're right," she whispered. "We'll not be safe until we actually get away from those bastards, let's keep moving."
Marie took a steadying breath and turned to her children. "Alright, you three, listen up. We're leavin'. We're hittin' the road again."
Wade's head shot up, his face splitting into an enormous grin. "ROAD TRIP!!! I CALLED SHOTGUN!"
Ken immediately scowled, his small fists clenching. "But you always get shotgun!"
"You know the rules, Kenny! First come, first served! Maybe work on your speed a little more, yeah?" Wade taunted, sticking out his tongue.
Ken just let out a sharp, disgusted "Tch!"
"Boys!" Marie reprimanded them, her voice sharp enough to cut through the bickering. "Enough. Let's pack up. Bring the essentials only."
"Can I bring the guns and ammo? Please! Pretty please!" Wade begged, clasping his hands together and deploying his most devastating puppy-dog eyes. "Laura got my unicorns! And Kenny got my old toys! I'm too big of a boy for that now! Can I? It's only fair!"
"Wade–" Marie started, her tone warning.
From his spot by the fire, Banner muttered, "I don't think a child should have a weapo–"
"Okay!" Marie pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Just make sure the safety is always on!"
"'Kay!" Wade whooped, darting off towards the weapons cache.
Banner just stared, shaking his head in bewildered silence. "You guys are the weirdest family I've ever met."
"I'll pack our clothes," Marie said, deciding to ignore that last comment. She left Logan to handle the heavier items from the cabin, trusting him to know what was important.
Once the truck was nearly loaded, Logan gathered the most critical items from the cabin. He threw some of his half-charred journals and their newly rediscovered paperwork—birth certificates, identification, the wedding certificate, some photos—into the truck's glove box, securing their fragile past in the most secure part of their mobile present.
Logan's eyes were drawn to the katana still displayed above the fireplace—the red blade. He reached for it, his fingers curling around the scabbard. A flicker of something—a memory, a feeling of rightness—passed through him. He didn't hesitate; he took it and added it carefully to their growing pile in the trailer before heading inside to help Marie fold and pack their meager collection of new clothes.
Once the truck was nearly loaded, Logan approached Bruce one last time, his offer gruff but genuine. "You got a place to be? You can ride with us."
The doctor looked at the children clambering into the trailer, then down at his own hands as if he could see the monster sleeping under his skin. "I... I can't. It's not safe. I am afraid the other guy would get loose when we get into the town. But... thank you."
Logan didn't push. He just gave a single, understanding nod. "Good luck, then.
As Banner turned to leave, Wade piped up. "Hey, Doc! If you're having issues with the big guy, have you tried couples counseling? Or maybe yoga? I hear it's great for inner peace. You and the big guy gotta work on your commu–."
Marie's hand shot out, covering Wade's mouth with a long-suffering look. She offered Banner an apologetic smile. "Safe travels, Mr. Banner."
LOGAN
Just as Logan slammed the trailer door shut, a guttural, bone-chilling roar echoed from the treeline, far deeper and more bestial than the Hulk's.
They all spun around.
Logan's head snapped towards Banner, his eyes narrowed. "Is there anyone else like you out here?" he growled.
From the shadows of the pines, it emerged. It was a gaunt, skeletal figure, towering over them, its body covered in ragged white fur. Its face was a skull-like mask of savagery, with sunken eyes that glowed with a faint, malevolent light. It was emaciated but moved with a predator's terrifying speed.
"The hell is that?" Logan snarled, his claws snapping out.
"Skinny Yeti!" Wade shouted, already drawing the AP pistol he'd claimed. "The Wendigo…"
"I thought that was just a folk-tale!"
"Apparently not!"
Before anyone could react, the Wendigo lunged with terrifying speed, a blur of white fur and claws aimed straight for Banner sending him straight to the woods.
Logan tried to intercept it, his adamantium claws screeching as they slashed through its hides.
"Damn thing's built like a tank!" Logan grunted, being forced back a step by the creature's raw strength.
Marie shot down from above like a comet, putting all her borrowed strength into a punch that connected with the Wendigo's shoulder.
The impact sent the creature flying into a thick pine, which splintered with a loud crack.
But the Wendigo merely shook itself, rising with a guttural snarl, its glowing eyes fixed on them with renewed hatred.
A thin line of black blood dripped from Logan's claw marks, but the damage was superficial.
"NO! NOT AGAIN!" Banner screamed, but his protest was swallowed as his body swelled and tore, the Hulk exploding back into existence in a wave of green muscle and rage.
This time, he didn't just charge; he recognized his opponent.
"PUNY WHITE BUG! HULK REMEMBER YOU!" he roared, catching the Wendigo's next lunge and, with immense strain, halting its charge dead in its tracks.
The two wrestled, feet digging trenches in the frozen earth, a brutal contest of strength.
Seeing an opening, Wade darted in, his AP pistol barking. "Hey, Frosty! Lookie here! YOHOO! YEAH! BULLSEYE! PUN INTENDED!" The two precise shots burst the Wendigo's glowing eyes like overripe fruit.
The creature shrieked, a horrifying, high-pitched sound of agony, and thrashed blindly.
"NOW, HULK!" Logan yelled.
The Hulk used the disorientation, unleashing a thunderous, two-fisted hammer blow to the creature's chest.
A sickening crack echoed through the clearing as its sternum gave way, and the Wendigo was thrown back, stumbling and disoriented.
It wasn't enough. Bleeding, blinded, and broken, the Wendigo surged forward one last time, driven by pure instinct.
Logan met the charge headfirst. His claws already stabbing the Wendigo repeatedly.
He dove under a wild swipe, rolled to the side of its exposed neck, and with one final, brutal cross-slash, severed its head from its shoulders.
The ghastly thing flew through the air and landed with a dull thud in the snow, its body collapsing a second later.
Hulk stood over the corpse, panting, and delivered one last kick for good measure. "HULK... STRONGEST ONE THERE IS!"
"Yeah, yeah, you're! You big green mean bean!" Wade quipped, reloading his pistol. "Can we keep him?"
Before Logan could tell Wade off, another identical, guttural roar echoed near them.
The Wendigo they just defeated regenerated, its skeletal form charging from the place it just laid.
"Ahh, yeah... I forget that they kinda immortal. Anyway did anyway knew Voodoo?"
"WHAT!?!"
But it barely took three steps.
With a grunt of "HULK SMASH WHITE BUG!", the green goliath didn't even let it get close.
He lunged forward, seized the creature by its ankles, and with one mighty heave, hurled the shrieking Wendigo in a high, tumbling arc far into the distant, snow-capped mountains.
With a final, ground-shaking roar of triumph, the Hulk bounded after it, a green comet determined to ensure the fight was permanently finished.
"Should we...?" Wade started, a hint of concern in his voice as he watched the Hulk disappear.
Logan's hand clamped down on his shoulder. "He can handle it. Let's go!" Logan's voice was gravelly and brooked no argument. "In the truck. Now!"
There is no telling if there are more of those beasts near…
They scrambled into the vehicle, the engine roaring to life.
As Logan peeled away from the ruined cabin, leaving the scene of two different monster battles behind, none of them noticed the lone figure observing them from a high ridge a mile away.
A certain one-eyed man in a black trench coat, an eagle emblem on his shoulder, lowered his high-powered binoculars, a slow, calculating smile spreading across his face.
He watched the beat-up truck and trailer disappear down the dirt road, his single eye narrowed in thought. The man at the wheel was unmistakable, even after all these years.
"Well, I'll be damned," Nick Fury muttered to himself, a sly smile appearing on his face. "Logan. That motherfucker is still alive!"
"Ooh! Another foreshadowing! Cue the Avenger theme!"