Home. She was finally home. At the village she had left behind all those decades ago as a little girl.

There hadn’t been much left. At some point, probably during last stretches of the War the place had been demolished. Destroyed. She didn’t even want to know what had happened to people who had lived in there. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the small patch of land she could call her own, and small house built from debris and huge slabs of stones she had found from scattered ruins with Logan.

She glanced from the window. Sight made her forget momentarily the task at hand, and she just stood there, staring at the small figure little further in the field surrounding the house. Logan and two camels. Animals were strapped in front of an irrigation trolley Logan had made. He was steering them back and forth over light green growth of crop on the dry land. She could practically see greedy sun drinking off droplets of water sprinkling from the trolley before they even hit the land, but she knew Logan would make it work. He had made it work during previous winter; he’d made it work now. He was probably more stubborn than the camels he was steering. For the previous summer he had been planning some other way to keep the field watered, but every plan up until now had had some serious flaw. Well they had was too deep and water level too low to construct any kind of working irrigation channel. He still remembered rain birds. Mechanical devices that were attached to one end of a hose. Other end of that hose was attached to some sort of pump that would pull the water up and push it forward, out through the water bird that would spread it over wide area. He had tinkered for few weeks now, designing and building different birds, but they were missing the pump and a hose. He was quite sure that he could find both of the missing items from a settlement, but to get there would take two weeks. And right now they didn’t have a month to squander. Maybe after harvest, but not before.

She sighed and leaned her elbows against the windowsill, lowering her chin to her palms and let her gaze rest on him. The man she had first seen when she was just a child. She still carried the marks from their first meeting. They didn’t seem to bother Logan. On the contrary, those flawed spots on her tanned skin were usually the first he sought out at night when they lay on their bed. Fingers brushing over them, lips raining feather-light kisses over every white patch, until she couldn’t take it anymore, and she had to remind him how much she liked when he touched and kissed other parts of her.

She still sometimes went rigid and started trembling under his touch, but those times were few and far apart. When it happened, he usually left her alone and spent the night out, grooming camels and fixing things that needed fixing, or just generally wandering around. She was grateful for that. When memories came, she didn’t want him anywhere near her. She didn’t want to spoil this new image of Logan with the tainted leftovers from the beast at the Breeding Center.

She shrugged out of her thoughts when she noticed that the small spot on the furthest corner of the field had turned around and grown considerably larger. Logan was coming home. Hungry as a wolf. And here she stood, daydreaming, when she was supposed to prepare a meal for them.

Rice was cooked, leftovers from the previous day. She took out a large pan she had found from the ruins when they had first arrived here two years ago. It had probably belonged to the kitchen in the tavern. It was a huge, blackened, round slab of metal. Logan had spent several weeks building a fireplace big and sturdy enough to house it.

She plunked a knob of butter to the pan and raised it to the fireplace. Heat from the glowing coals heated the pan quickly, and made the butter melt and crackle. Next she threw in meat. Neatly sliced pieces, fresh from a rabbit Logan had caught few days ago. Waited until it was cooked and then add the rice.

“Hmmm… Something smells good…” She nearly dropped the bowls she was holding. She hated the fact that it was relatively easy for Logan to sneak up on her. For some reason super senses she had gotten from him refused to work properly when he was around.

She could feel Logan leaning against her back and his hands came around her, swooping down and catching the bowl before it fell and shattered to pieces. He reached to put it on the table, but didn’t let go of her. Instead he grabbed her even firmer against him and buried his face to the mass of brown, silky hair that flowed down her shoulders, and inhaled deeply.
“Smells good enough to eat…” He purred. Marie giggled.
“It’s the dinner, you big lug! And it won’t smell edible for long if you don’t let go of me and let me stir it before it burns!”

After they had eaten they just sat for a while in companionable silence. It didn’t last long. Camels started getting restless, mooing and shuffling their feet. Logan cursed softly and stood up.
“As soon as I get those rain birds working, I’ll gut those two morons…” He muttered, stretching his back.
“Ow, my poor babies… Is big bad Logan going to hurt them?” Marie cooed, putting on her best effort of pouty lips and fluttering her lashes.
“Big bad Logan’s going nuts with them. And I have two more rounds to go before it’s finished for today. Don’t wait me for the supper. I’ll just grab something to eat when I get back home, okay?”

Had he known what kind of burden farming could be out in the desert he would have stayed on the road. But this had been what they both wanted. What they both needed. A place to settle down and dig in their roots. And things were looking up.

It had been slow going, but every day they had spent working together had lessened the fear in her eyes and posture. Every day spent on the field or tinkering in the shed had lessened his fears and tension.

He climbed on the trolley and grabbed the reigns of the camels. Snapped them lightly to let the animals know they could start walking.

It wasn’t usual, or even recommended to irrigate fields during daytime, but out here in the scorching inferno he had had to write his own rules about farming. So far he hadn’t managed to botch up anything completely. If they wanted to eat, he’d have to hunt. Only time of the day animals big enough to hunt came out was after sunset. He couldn’t very well sit on the trolley in the middle of the goddamned field if he intended to catch anything.

Surely he could have let Marie to take on some of the work, but she already had her hands full back at the house. Keeping them fed, clothed, and tending the small vegetable garden took most of her time. And she had taken on sewing clothes for sale as well. She had learned how to make cloth from straws that were left over after harvest. They weren’t very durable, but she made them colorful and decorated them with small trinkets they had gotten when they last time visited the settlement. At the end of the year, on market day they would be fit for a king. Not something people bought because they needed clothes, but something what they bought because it looked pretty. She could ask higher price from these articles than the ones she had made from furs and skins when she still lived with Sam. With any luck they would really be able to buy that pump and the hose he needed for the irrigation system.
“And after that I’m going to have me some camel-roast…” He grunted and smacked both animals harder with the reigns. If he as much as forgot for half a minute where he was, they stopped walking and stood there stupid, waiting that the tank on the trolley drained to the ground and made it soggy from mud, and he’d have to find that extra piece of strength to jerk it loose again.
“Goddamned… If I never see a camel again in my life, it’ll be all too soon… Move, you fucking hunched freaks before I come down there and move you!”

They would have probably gotten along just fine if they were genuinely stupid. Nobody could help if they were little slow on the uptake. But he was convinced that the camels weren’t stupid. Hairy fuckers were probably smarter than him and Marie put together. There was no other way why they could squirm loose from every trouble they had gotten in to. All they had to do was to smack their gigantic lips and flutter their eyelashes, flashing the most saddest, apologetic look to him with their moist, round eyes, and his all intentions of butchering them to where they stood disappeared. Vanished to thin air. Ug and Glug. Ug was the uglier from the pair. Glug had gotten its name soon after it had wandered to back garden where Marie had been doing laundry. She had turned her back for long enough to pin few shirts to the clothesline, and when she had turned back towards the pail camel had been drinking from it. It had finished the soapy water, smacked its lips satisfied and wandered off before she had managed to give it a good spanking.

No. He wouldn’t be able to finish them off. In a way they had become part of his family. Their babies as Marie had put it.
“Then again… Do that one more time and it’s open season for camels! I fed you fuckers this morning! It’s time to work, not to eat!” Camels raised their heads from the ground from where they had been nibbling the light grey growth of grain. Turned to look at him. Ug had the balls to spit at him.
“I’ll fucking gag you! Move!”

Camels peered him through lowered lashes, then turned to look at each other. Turned to look at him for the one last time before they straightened their long necks and started to tug the trolley forward again.

He sighed tiredly, unbuttoning his shirt. Camels taken care of, goat Marie kept for milk fed, skinny rabbit at his feet. Critter had stumbled upon the field, mad and delirious from hunger. All he had had to do was to pick up a rock and lob it at it. Had saved him from going hunting tonight.

He shrugged off his shirt and jeans. Sun had already set, but the water from the well felt still warm. He scrubbed himself with the small bar of soap until he couldn’t smell the scent of camels on him anymore and rinsed off. Hair was a different matter. He pulled a new bucketful of water up, and dunked his head in the bucket. This way water felt actually cold. Ug had eaten his hat earlier today, and he knew he probably had a sunstroke, when moving too fast caused him to sway dizzily. Nothing that a good nights sleep wouldn’t help to get rid of.

He stretched his back and shook his head to get rid of the droplets of water that tried to stream down on his face. Peered in to the bucket when he noticed that he could see his reflection from the surface of the water. Sun had burnt off some color from his hair. Most of it was still black, but now he had light, almost blonde streaks mixing with the darkness. Was this how he would look if he ever would get old? He harrumphed and took the bucket, walking round the house to the back yard to Marie’s own private kingdom. He sprinkled the water from the bucket over green tufts of carrots and other vegetables. Dry land drank the liquid greedily. He placed the bucket on the porch and hung the carcass of the rabbit to the railing as well. He’d have to remember to move it to the stable at the morning or sun would rot it before noon.

He patted quietly in to the kitchen. Fridge, their only item of luxury whirred in the corner silently. It had taken quite a lot juggling and panhandling to get their hands on it. He didn’t even want to think of how big dent it had made to their funds, but they couldn’t have gotten through without it. Well, most likely they would have been just fine, but it was nice to have something cold to balance the unbearable heat during summers. He had stripped off one of the solar panels from the truck and put it up on the roof of their little house. It gave enough power for the fridge, and they probably could have installed proper lights to all their rooms too, but somehow they didn’t feel necessary.

For a moment he just stood there, his hand raised to the handle of the fridge. There was one bottle of beer left. He had been saving it. He wasn’t sure of for what. He opened the door and grabbed the brown bottle. Held it against his burning forehead before putting it back in and taking a pitcher of water instead. It would be as cold as the beer.

He drank greedily, straight from the pitcher. Water felt good, flowing down his parched throat.
“Did we name the wrong animal as Glug?” Marie’s amused voice came from the doorstep of their bedroom.
“Yeah. Probably. You think you could make me a new hat? Ug ate the one I had on today.”
“I swear I dunk the next one in to rat poison!” It didn’t take long to twine a hat from straws, but she was getting tired of replacing them almost daily.
“Oww… You’d hurt our widdle-little babies?” Logan cooed smirking. Actually her idea sounded quite appealing. Walking appetite would get the surprise of its life.

He put the pitcher back in to the fridge and walked to where Marie stood, naked as the day she was born, thin sheen of sweat covering her body. Seeing her like this, her hair still tousled from the sleep, drowsy look on her face, whole body relaxed and warm made him forget his earlier hunger and discomfort. He grabbed her shoulders and backed her in to the bedroom. He could already smell faint traces of her arousal.
“And what have we been up to while I was slaving my ass off with those freaks?” He murmured, burying his face to the crock of her neck and inhaling her scent.
“Dreaming…” Marie whispered, curling her hands around his neck and climbing up his body until she rested on his lap, her feet curled around his waist.
“Dreaming? Must have been a nice dream…” Logan chuckled when he felt the slick wetness sliding against his cock.
“Nice? The best…” Marie whispered, leaning closer to nibble his lower lip and rocking against him.
“It was about you… Me… Without clothes… And ahh…” She had been planting soft kisses on his lips while she spoke. He had grasped her hips and brought her to better position, sinking his cock all the way to her throbbing core.

His knees nearly buckled, and he lowered them both to the bed, careful to keep their lower bodies joined. There were times when they both enjoyed of rough, almost feral sex play, but right now they were content just to lay together, their hips hardly moving, grinding together in lazy pace.

“It’s so beautiful out here in the night,” Marie sighed gazing over the desert.
“Yeah. Close your eyes.” He poured a bucket of water over her. She let out a low moan and rubbed her glistening skin with soapy hands, not forgetting to slide them over her breasts. Move accentuated their fullness and drew his attention to her still erect nipples.
“We won’t be getting much sleep tonight if you keep that up…” He muttered, discarding the bucket and pulling her closer to him, sucking one pert nipple between his lips. Her hands cradled his skull and she gasped, arching to his touch.
“I… I don’t mind… Wasn’t that tired anyway…”

When he woke up, sun was already high up on the sky. From the kitchen window he could see small dot on the field. Marie. Well, if she wanted to struggle with their stubborn animals for a change, he wasn’t going to complain. He had been meaning to clean up the stable for days now, but every night he had been too tired to start. And finally he would have the time to catch up with news of the world. He had installed quite powerful radio to their truck, and he usually listened it while he got the camels ready for the field, but at that hour there usually wasn’t anything important on. Just few stations were broadcasting anyway for the civilians, and most of the stuff they sent out was so heavily censored that he could only wonder why the hell they still bothered to push it through.

He got dressed and poured himself some coffee Marie had made earlier. Took the cup with him and walked outside, his gaze fixed to Marie and the animals. Hour. Two tops, and she’d be coming back home, begging him to finish off both camels as brutal and slow as possible.
“Well…” He’d as well go and start cleaning the stable before it happened. At least he would have good excuse to refuse when it happened.

Small alarms he hadn’t had the use for years now blared to life in his gut, every muscle coiling taut. Coffee cup fell to the ground. He was about to turn around when strong arm locked around his throat and pulled him against equally strong chest. He could feel something sharp, probably a knife, grazing over his stomach, then sharp end of it poked his groin, just above his femoral artery.

She couldn’t help wondering why Logan always whined and nagged about Ug and Glug. Sure, they had their flaws, but as long as you kept yourself few steps ahead of them and sensed what they were going to do next, there were no problems. In fact, they had acted like angels for the whole morning.
“Keep this up and there might be something extra in reserve for you tonight,” she smiled, steering the trolley around some loose rocks. Unlike average farmers who kept digging and dragging all stones off from their fields, Logan had to drag stones from surrounding area on to field to stop all fertile soil washing off during winter. Terrain turned soggy, almost like a quicksand, and it was impossible to farm anything but maybe rice, but they had found out it wasn’t worth the hassle. People weren’t paying enough to cover the trouble.

He cursed silently his own stupidity. He had been playing Old MacDonald far too long when somebody managed to snuck up on him like this.
“Wasn’t expecting to find you here…” Voice sounded familiar, and when he inhaled, the scent wafting from the attacker confirmed what he suspected.
“Likewise. Care to let me go, Sam?”
“I don’t know, it depends… Are you going to behave, old man, or are you going to pull the same kind of stunt you pulled the last time?”
“Listen, you little piece of shit… I did it for you, and your mom. If it weren’t for me, you’d be still slumming with her in that piece of crap rubble, with no hope of getting anywhere, ever.”
“Is that so? And somehow it was better that you knocked me unconscious and made the decision for me?” Sam spat, knife digging deeper in to Logan’s thigh. He could feel the tip scraping skin through the jeans.
“You wanted to leave. I showed you the way out. Let me go now, before I show you the permanent way out…”

Boy was stronger than he remembered. He wasn’t going to disgrace himself by struggling. Only way out of Sam’s grip was if he let go voluntarily, or Logan would have to stab him. He hoped the former. Marie would be less than pleased if he as much as cut a hair from Sam’s head. Grip around his throat tightened momentarily, then Sam shoved him forward, letting go.

“What the fuck are you doing here? And how did you find us?” Logan asked, turning face to face with his son.
“Mom once told me about this place. I found some maps and figured that if the Army had already destroyed this place, this would probably be one of those places they wouldn’t come looking for me,” Sam grunted, toying with the knife. There were scars on every exposed patch of his skin. Some older, nearly white already, some fresher. He was missing one finger and an ear.
“Army? What the fuck are you talking about? I set you up with that caravan, they needed a driver…” Logan hissed, reaching for the knife and snatching it from Sam.
“A soon as we arrived to the settlement, I got off and got enlisted.”
“I can’t fucking believe this! Did I hit you too hard, or what the fuck messed up your head? Enlisted? I could have beaten and crippled you by myself if that’s what you wanted! And what? You’re on AWOL now? Huh? And you have the nerve to come here?”

Logan had thrown away the knife and taken firm hold from the front of Sam’s shirt, knuckles shining white as bone, raising the boy partly up in the air.
“Are you fucking insane?” He hissed, their noses nearly touching.
“If they follow you here we’re all screwed. I’m probably marked dead in their records, as well as your mom. If they found out we’re alive… No. There’s no fucking way I’m going to let you put your mom through that hell again. No fucking way.”
“But… But it’s not like that anymore!” Sam tried to argue, but Logan could see the doubt in his eyes.
“Not like that? As far as I knew, we’re the strongest what they can throw against those fucking aliens. You’re a living, breathing proof of that. You really think they would pass the chance to lock us up and start the breeding program again? I’m sure they could find some creative use for you, too. I don’t think your mom is one of a kind. Or if she is, who knows, our next child could be a girl…”
“That’s… That’s disgusting…” Sam was pale as a sheet, ready to wet himself if Logan shook him any harder.

He forced himself to calm down, and lowered his son to the ground, letting go of him.
“Disgusting? You haven’t even seen disgusting, boy. Well, we might as well go and tell your mother that you’re here…”

Look on Marie’s face when she saw Sam was nearly enough for Logan to let go of his anger towards the boy. Nearly. He stayed at the field with camels rather than followed Marie and their son back home. He needed to think. Needed to calm down and figure a way out of this. And sun wasn’t going to take a day-off no matter what, crop needed the water.

Sam clearly hadn’t thought through anything. He had just taken off when going got too rough. Something Marie had told him to do when he was younger. But why the hell had the boy chosen this place to hide? It wasn’t like there weren’t enough ransacked villages and settlements to choose. Had it been just a strange fluke, or should he prepare to welcome even more visitors?

Camels jumped nervously when the sound of metal against metal echoed over the field. He raised his fist, letting the sun shimmer on the gleaming surface of his claws. It would have been so fucking easy. Just cut the brat to small enough pieces and bury him behind the stable. There would have been nobody asking questions.
“Should have done that two fucking years ago…” He grunted and sheathed his claws, swallowing bitter saliva that had risen to his mouth. He should have taken care of Sam when he first saw him at the arena. Marie would have hated him for that, but at least he could have claimed that he hadn’t known the boy.

Should have. But what was done was done. It was easy to get smart and logical over something that had happened long ago. It was harder to stay sharp and clearheaded now. If Sam was enlisted as an ordinary field unit, Army wasn’t looking for him that keenly, but if they knew about his mutation, if they had his DNA mapped, they wouldn’t stop before they found him.

Yeah, officially mutants were equal with men. Officially. But Logan wasn’t naïve. From tidbits of truth he had heard from the radio during these years he had gathered that War wasn’t going according to their plans. Their. Men and women in high positions. They had underestimated the threat. Race that was attacking was far more developed than what everybody had first thought. For the stroke of luck they weren’t able to move around very quickly in Earth’s atmosphere, but that was probably the only thing keeping them for taking over. That, and countless mutants with different powers thrown on to battlefield. Some volunteered, but most of them were forced to enlist.

Officially such things as Breeding Centers and Laboratories were nightmarish mistakes in the past, but Logan had seen their greatest successes, and he doubted that the Army would turn their back to something so powerful.

“It’s not like that anymore…” He mimicked Sam’s panicked squeal from earlier and let his head droop against his chest.
“You have no idea how much I want that to be true…”

She did her best not to ask too many questions at once. She was happy. She was curious, and she was worried upon seeing Sam’s condition, but the boy looked tired and hungry. Food and rest first. They would have time for stories and catching up later.
“Hungry?” She asked, plunking a plate filled with rice and meat in front of Sam, as well as pitcher of water. Sam dug in hungrily, and she sat opposite him, her eyes resting on his every move and feature.

So much like Logan. Same, stubborn and powerful air surrounded Sam as his father. Strange people would have probably mistaken him as Logan’s younger brother. Well, maybe not younger. Sam had gotten older. He looked about the same age as Logan. Scars added years to his demeanor.

“You don’t loose fingers and ears driving a truck,” she couldn’t help noticing. Sam chewed for a while and swallowed.
“No. No, you don’t,” he grunted a short answer before shoveling another spoonful of rice and meat in to his mouth.
“Logan did leave you with a caravan?” She asked. Sam nodded.
“Wasn’t what I was looking for. Found something else.”
“And that something else wasn’t what you were looking for, either?”
“No. At first it was, but then… Something happened and I started to see the whole thing in a new light. Wasn’t for me anymore.”
“I see. Are you planning to stay?” She asked. She wanted to ask him to stay, but it really wasn’t her place. Sam was a grown man now; he should do as he pleased instead of clinging to the strings of her apron.
“If dad lets me. I could stay for a while. Long enough to get back on my feet.”
“I’ll go and make you a bed in to the stable. And I’ll have a word with your father,” Marie promised, standing up. Sam reached over the table, grabbing her wrist before she left.

“Thanks. Thanks, mom. I… I missed you.” She smiled and gave Sam a brief hug, ruffling his hair like she had done several times when he was just a kid. When she tried to respond to him, words got stuck in her throat.

She hadn’t missed him. Worried over him and often thought about him, but there hadn’t been a genuine moment of which she could say she had hoped that Sam would have been with her.

“I’ll go and make that bed for you. There’s water in the well if you want to freshen up, and I’m sure you can find clean clothes for you from Logan’s closet, you’re about the same size as him,” she whispered and left quickly.

She practically fled from him, run away from her son, over the yard and in to the barn before she allowed herself to slide to the ground on her hands and knees. There were no tears on her cheeks. No scream in her throat. Just a sickening, black hatred towards the boy who was a living, breathing reminder of everything that had gotten wrong in her life.

It was already dark when he finished his last round. Camels were mooing less than pleasantly. Their constant bickering grated his nerves, but he tried not to treat them too harshly. They were probably reflecting his own lousy mood anyway.

He left the trolley outside and guided the animals in to the barn. He could smell Sam’s scent all over the place. He could see him up on the rafters, leaning his back against the wall and reading something.

He hitched the camels to their places and started taking off their reigns. He heard a soft thud when Sam jumped down.
“So. You can read?” He tried to act civilized. It wouldn’t do to get them both aggravated. Boy had inherited his temper and stubbornness. Marie would find two corpses from here in the morning if they let themselves loose.
“Everybody reads nowadays, dad. And mom taught me when I was a kid.”

Dad. Right. He picked up a curry and threw it to Sam who caught it before it hit his chest.
“You get Ug. Try to get off as much sand as you can.” Sam started grooming the camel he had pointed.
“I talked with mom. She said it was okay for me to stay here. That’s of course if it’s okay with you,” boy ventured while running the rubber brush through Ug’s coarse hair.
“Do you realize what kind of danger you’re putting us all? Have you forgotten everything I told you about the Army and how it operates?” Logan asked, trying his best to school his tone to conversational level.
“I guess I forgot. With you clocking me and everything… Hell, dad! Things have changed since you were in the Army. We had even mutant commanders. Some of the highest ranking officers are mutants, and…”
“We had mutant commanders back then. I had usually group of ten men in my command. And then there were commanders for mutant commanders. Men who told us where to go and what to do. But I’m not talking about the regular Army, and you know that, Sam,” Logan spoke quietly, grooming Glug who enjoyed his rough handling enough to close its eyes and drool a puddle at its feet.
“I don’t know what you are talking about. There is just one Army,” Sam grunted.
“One Army with different branches. Back then I was a Destroyer. Nothing but a mindless machine. When I got obsolete they turned me in to Genetical engineers. In to Breeding Center.”
“I know that. You told me about it. I don’t want to hear about it…”
“You have to hear about it, because it looks like you listened jack shit last time I told this to you!” Logan’s hackles rose and he threw the curry he had been using on Glug to the furthest corner of the stable.

“Genetical Engineering was something they did. Something from which they got out good results. More powerful and versatile mutants. More efficient and durable killers to throw against the enemy. The program was working. You can’t actually believe that they stopped just because some nice people asked them to stop it. If you believe that, you’re more stupid than I realized. Now, I’m going to ask something important. And it’s very, very fucking important that you answer truthfully. If you lie to me and something goes wrong because of that, I’ll hunt you down and gut you. Is that clear?” Logan had been stalking closer to Sam all the while he spoke, his eyes locked to his son’s eyes. They stood staring each other over Ug’s back.
“Is that clear?” He asked, unsheathing claws from his left hand and sliding them over Ug’s back, shaving off the thin surface layer of camel’s fur.
“It’s clear,” Sam whispered.
“Do they know that you’re a mutant?” Logan asked. Sam nodded.
“Did they at any point take your blood or marrow?” Was Logan’s next question. Sam shook his head. Logan relaxed and let his claws slide back in.
“I meant that I’m not sure. They could have during surgery. They didn’t tell us very much what they did, just fixed us and it was enough for me.”

“And that brings one more question to my mind. The chip. Did you take it out before you came here?”
“And how the fuck was I supposed to do that? Just in case you have forgotten, I didn’t inherit healing factor!” Sam barked. That’s when Logan lost it. He ducked and barged against Sam from between camel’s legs, throwing them both several meters backwards until sturdy stone wall of the stable stopped them.
“I’ll fucking show you how, you retarded freak!” One hand clutching tightly Sam’s throat, other hovering just above his ribcage, squeezed to a tight fist. Claws were already stretching the tender skin between his knuckles. He could see them sliding out, then sliding in, parting flesh and bone. He took a deep, calming breath. Sam wasn’t worth it. Killing him wasn’t worth to loose Marie over. He switched the position of his hands and sat on Sam’s chest with his full weight, unsheathing claws from his left hand, letting Sam to see them properly.

“This is going to hurt like bitch. I don’t know if this’ll work or not, but for your sake I do hope they haven’t tried to locate your chip yet.” With that said he cut off the sleeve of Sam’s shirt and threw it aside. Poked and prodded his arm until he was sure the hard lump under his fingers was what he was looking for. Sam grimaced when one claw dug in to his bicep, but kept still. Wound opened. Logan retracted his claws and dug in to slit he had made with his fingers none too gently, and poked and prodded until he found what he was looking for. Tiny metal cylinder. He showed it to Sam.
“I have taken out more of these from my body than I care to remember. Damned hard to break, but put them too close anything electrical and they go boom. Now, be a good boy and take this to the hood of my truck,” he whispered, dropping the chip to Sam’s palm and standing up.

“Didn’t have to do this to your mom. They chipped her alright, but with that blue stuff she got in to herself… It probably ate it off,” Logan said. They stood few meters away from his truck and he was holding a remote that would start the engine. Sam was fiddling with the wound on his bicep, trying to stem the trickle of blood from it.
“Blue stuff? You mean that blue powder that comes out of her skin, right?” He asked. Logan snorted.
“Have you seen what that ‘powder’ can do?” He asked and pressed the remote. Truck’s engine roared. Small flash of light and cloud of black smoke signaled the end of the tracking chip.
“I have seen it only once. She was sweating pale blue liquid.”
“You’re lucky she wasn’t more scared. We wouldn’t be standing here talking right now if she had lost it.”

“Logan, let Sam get some rest. And you should come to bed, too,” Marie’s voice floated to them from the doorstep of the stable.
“Yeah, yeah! We were just catching up…” Logan shouted. And then Marie was walking closer. She could smell Sam’s blood. She stopped next to their son and grabbed his arm, her eyes fixed to still bleeding gash on his bicep.
“What happened?” She asked, her eyes darting between the men. Logan cleared his throat, obviously at loss of what to say.
“I just tripped over and something poked at me. It’s nothing. Just go back to sleep, mom,” Sam explained hastily.
“Is that so?” Marie asked, letting her eyes drill in to Logan’s.
“If the boy says so. I’ll just finish with Ug and Glug and come to bed after that, okay?”

“Ug and Glug? Who the hell named these beasts?” Sam asked amused, picking up the curry Logan had discarded earlier.
“Watch it. Your brothers won’t appreciate you calling them beasts,” Logan rumbled.
“Figures. You could knock up mom, but instead you go and screw some camel. And you have the nerve to call me retarded…” Sam muttered.
“Raise your hand, palm up,” Logan asked. When Sam did as he told him to do, he slapped the curry he had been wielding to his outstretched palm.
“What the hell…” Sam squeaked puzzled. Logan smirked.
“Time to go ‘knock up’ your mom. Take good care of your siblings…”

Water from the well smelled a bit stale. He’d have to remember to check it out in the morning. It wasn’t unusual to find a dead mouse or even a rat floating down there. He washed himself thoroughly, and made sure that not a drop of Sam’s blood was left on his hands before he entered the cabin.

Marie was already sleeping. He could hear her breathing in the darkness of their bedroom. For a moment he pondered whether to wake her for a tumble, but decided against it. She wouldn’t be in the mood. He wasn’t in the mood. Hell, it would be a miracle if they ever got in to mood again. Wouldn’t happen as long as Sam was with them. Boy stirred up too many bad memories. Speaking of which… He walked to the fridge and took the beer he had been saving.
“There won’t become any better moment than this…” He muttered silently and opened the bottle, sitting in front of the fireplace and taking a sip.

What he couldn’t figure for the life of him was why Sam had lied to Marie. Hell, kid could have told her how Logan had tried to maim him. Marie would have sent him away in a blink of an eye and Sam could have gotten his mom all to himself. Not that he wasn’t grateful, but it was unnerving. He was in debt to his own son, for God’s sakes.

He finished his beer. Grimaced for the stale taste it left in his mouth. Cigar would have been better, but they were hard to come by, and he had smoked his last one when they had finished building the house. Those had been good days. No Ug and Glug. No field. Just a well filled with shit and whatnot, rickety house, him, and most important, Marie. A lot had happened since then, but this certainly took the cake.

When he had left Sam with the leader of the caravan he had been dead on sure that that would have been the last he would see the kid. He had figured out quite fast that Sam was the source of most of Marie’s fears and insecurities. Not on a conscious level. Hell, no. More loving mother or more devoted son you wouldn’t find even if you tried to look.

And now the bastard was back.
“Bastard indeed…” Muties didn’t marry. Even now, after it was declared that mutants were equal with men it was against the law to marry a mutant. Not that it mattered. He had kept a silent ceremony with Marie. Ceremony of their own as soon as they had gotten the house ready. He was quite sure that none of the religious groups in power would have condoned their joining, but for them it had been something good and beautiful.

He chucked the empty beer bottle in to cupboard and walked in to bedroom. Moonlight cast eerie glow over the bed where Marie laid. She had kicked off the covers, and there was a silvery gleam on her soft skin. He crawled on to bed carefully not to awake her and curled partially on top of her, tucking his face to the crook of her neck, and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be a new day, and perhaps they all could get through it in one piece.

Marie woke up to the sound of hammering. Sun was rising, and she could hear occasional curses and footsteps from the roof above her, then some more hammering. Logan. As if he had sensed that she had woken up she saw him drop down past the window.

“Showed Sam how everything works and sent him to field with Ug and Glug. Figured he could make himself useful as long as he stays here,” Logan said, leaning in through the open window.
“That’s good. But… What are you doing? I thought you fixed the roof last week?” She asked yawning.
“I did. I took one of the machine guns from the truck. I’m going to mount it on the roof. I’m going to make some other changes as well.”
“Why? We haven’t seen bandits in ages. And you said yourself that we could defend this place from them easier with the truck than…”
“I’m not worried about bandits. I’m more worried about what or who might follow Sam to here. I… Shit. I didn’t want… Just promise you won’t freak out, okay?” Logan nearly begged, fiddling with the hammer.
“Freak out? Logan, what… You’re scaring me. What is going on?”
“Army. Sam got enlisted.”
“I kind of figured that out myself. You don’t get scars like that just by driving a truck.”
“Yeah. And that’s not all there is. He ran. They might be coming after him. Last night… I cut him. He had a working tracking chip in his arm. I cut it out and we burned it, but I don’t know how long he’s been on the run. Chances are that he just got out and came straight to here, but it might be that he’s been running for some time already, and in that case they have tried to track him down with the chip.”
“Oh…”

She wanted to crawl back in to bed. Pull covers over her head and stay hidden until it was all over. But she didn’t have the luxury of playing damsel in distress. She could read it from Logan’s eyes.
“I need you to start practicing. I can cook. Sam can cook. We can keep the place up while you… Practice. Just find a place far enough and downwind from here. But don’t go too far. I need you back here if something happens.”

He could see both Sam and Marie from where he was perched up on the roof. Sam was probably cursing camels to the lowest level of Hell right now, seeing as they were standing in the middle of a large, muddy puddle and the trolley wasn’t moving. Marie was just standing out on the desert, naked as the day she was born, head bowed and hands spread wide apart. She had been standing there for half an hour now. Not moving, whole posture tense, sun beating her form mercilessly. He thought he had seen faint blue glow around her few times, but he could have been mistaken. From this distance sun distorted everything and made people see things that weren’t really there. One reason why he had decided to sacrifice yet another vital part from the truck. He had taken out the radar and tried to find a way to rig it together with the machine gun he had already mounted on the roof. If he could scrounge up fully automated system, all three of them could efficiently concentrate defending themselves instead of keeping one of them constantly behind the trigger of the gun.

At noon Sam had finally gotten enough. He was returning, pulling his reluctant partners from the reigns and cursing a blue streak every time they mooed and tried to stop. He tied the camels in front of the stable.
“What is she doing? Trying to get a sunstroke?” Boy asked, waving to general direction of where Marie stood. Logan spat out nails from the corner of his mouth and put down the hammer. Better leave them up on the roof before his urge to bash in Sam’s skull got the better of him.
“She’s practicing. Which means it’s our turn to cook. You know how to cook, don’t you?”
“Practicing?”
“We figured it would be good to have ace in the sleeve just in case we get more visitors. She’s trying to find a trigger for the blue mist,” Logan explained and slid down from the roof, landing in front of the house with a soft thud, his booted feet raising small clouds of dust from the scorched ground.
“Since you’re no good for much else than guard duty…”
“I know how to fight, dad! How the hell do you think I stayed alive this long?” Sam huffed.
“You can fight. That’s fine. But what do you think would happen if I swiped your gut open right now? You’d fucking bleed to death under a minute, and that’s only if you were lucky. You don’t heal. Your only advantage in battle has been, and will be your senses and your instinct. They won’t do you much good when they flank you and put you full of holes.”
“Last time I checked mom doesn’t heal either.”
“She does now. And can cause hell of a lot more destruction than you have ever seen as soon as she has her head sorted out. So stay the fuck away from her and let her do what needs to be done. Get back in the field. I’ll call you when food’s done,” Logan spoke with clipped tone, squeezing the railing of the front porch for stopping himself from tearing in to Sam. To his relief boy kept his mouth shut, climbed on the trolley and turned the camels towards the field.

It was already dark when Marie returned. Exhausted, covered to sweat and dust from head to toes. Healing had kept the sunstroke at bay, but she was hungry, dehydrated, and plain tired and frustrated for trying so hard and gaining so little.
“Sit here,” Logan helped her to sit on the porch and fetched some water from the well, as well as a soft rag, and started wiping off filth that cling to her skin. She took a careful sip from the glass of water Logan had given her.
“I don’t know what I did, or how I did it, but… I can’t seem to find the right way anymore. It’s there. I can feel it, but it’s just out of my reach…” She kept muttering, leaning against the cool rag Logan pressed to the back of her neck.
“You’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it. But it would be maybe better if you didn’t spend the whole day out there. You’ll exhaust yourself and then you’re too tired to think properly. Maybe few hours at time, in the morning, or night, when the sun is down,” Logan murmured.
“We don’t have time to take this slow. If you were right, they could be here tomorrow! I need to be ready before…”
“You need to stay healthy. You’re no good to anybody if you’re too tired to even lift your pinkie when they come. If they come tomorrow, we’ll be screwed. If they come year from now, we might be equally screwed even if you have the control over it. You’re not the main defense. I am. And that machine gun. Even Sam. We’re the front line. You step in if it looks like there’s nothing left to do.”
“Even if I was the last reserve, I won’t do much good if all I can do is drain and heal! I need to find a way to make it work! I won’t find it if I sit at home and wait!” She hissed, yanking the rag from Logan and started to scrub herself clean almost feverishly.
“This is exactly what I meant when I said that I don’t want you to freak out. There’s every possibility that I’m just paranoid! They might even not care about Sam enough to come looking for him, for Christ’s sakes!” Logan grunted.
“And since when you being paranoid has meant that there’s nothing to worry about?”

After he had helped Marie to bed he had been too wound up to go to sleep. He returned outside instead and sat on the porch, wishing, hoping, and craving for a cigar. Just one lousy cigar. As it was, he didn’t have a cigar. He had Sam, who was venturing out from the stable, questioning look on his face.

“I heard you guys arguing. What happened?”
“None of your concern. Mommy and daddy had some grownup’s things to discuss. Go back to sleep,” Logan grunted, keeping his eyes averted from Sam.
“No. I’m in this as well as you. I need to know.”
“Et tu, Brute…”
“What?”
“Nothing. Go back to sleep, Sam.”
“No. It might have been a shitty idea to come here. Even shittier to stay after I noticed you were here, but I deserve to…” Sam didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence. Logan barreled against him with a loud roar, sending him stumbling backwards.

“You deserve jack shit. Marie? She’s your mother. Me? I’m your father. That’s where this all ends. We didn’t exactly plan to have kids. I know it’s fucked up to blame you from what happened. You had even less to say over the matter when they doped me up and threw your mother in that cell with me, but it’s hard to go on and live our lives when you remind us both of the Hell we went through back there. I have tried my hardest not to cut you up because of Marie. Get off from my face before I change my mind about that.”
“No.” Sam stood up from the ground, defiant gleam in his eyes, swiping off dust from his clothes. Logan tilted his head.
“Excuse me?”
“I said ‘no’. I won’t get off from your face. I won’t go away.”

“You keep telling me that I know nothing. You keep telling me that I’m no good. But there’s one thing that I’m not. I’m not stupid. You don’t like me. Mom… Maybe she doesn’t like me either. I don’t care. You’re my family. If anything happens, I want to be there for my family. I want to be able to do something. I know nothing? I’m no good? Then teach me!” Sam shouted, both of his hands curled to tight fists on his sides. Boy was barely keeping himself in check. It was much more than what Logan had been able to do lately. Even when he suddenly lunged towards Sam, his own fists raised, ready to punch, the boy stood on his ground, not flinching, not even blinking his eyes.
“Teach me, old man.”

Instead of punching Sam right away he lowered his hands. Forced his right one open and extended it towards Sam who took it on his own. Logan closed his hand to crushing grip around Sam’s palm and swiped him down with swift kick to his knee.
“Teach you? Why the fuck should I bother?” Sam was still holding his hand and tried to yank him off from balance. He succeeded. Move toppled Logan on top of him, claws from his left hand braced over Sam’s bare throat. A smirk started spreading on Logan’s face, but it quickly disappeared when he felt something sharp tapping his thigh. Sam’s left hand was lodged between their bodies, and in that hand the boy was holding a knife.
“Won’t do you any good. I’ll heal,” he grunted, adding pressure on Sam’s throat. Knife dug deeper to his thigh tip actually parting his skin.
“You’ll stay down long enough for somebody else to finish you off when I’m gone,” Sam spat, dropping the knife and bringing his knees up, throwing Logan off from him.
“You’re a fucking moron. There’s nobody…” Logan snarled and tackled Sam, pinning him to the ground again and bringing them face to face again.
“There’s nobody who can take me down. You think they haven’t tried, little boy? You think I haven’t tried it myself?”
“Mom could take you down,” Sam argued. Logan’s eyes narrowed.
“With that blue stuff. She could take you down with it.”
“She could take me down any day, any way she likes. Leave her out of this,” Logan huffed, pushed off from Sam, raising on his feet and turning away.

Just like his mother. Just like Marie. Sam knew exactly what buttons to push.
“I’m not going to teach you.” He could hear Sam shuffling, getting up and brushing his clothes.
“Why not?”
“You have fresher knowledge about Army and how it operates. Things I do know, things I think I remember… They’re outdated. Blurred. I’m fucking obsolete, Sam! I have tried to keep in touch with the world, but the way they keep censoring the news and anything that comes from the front, there’s just no way of telling what is bullshit, and what is complete bullshit.”

She could hear Logan and Sam fighting. Sam demanding Logan to teach him. Then the last blow. The one that made Logan retreat.

“Mom could take you down.” She laughed bitterly in the darkness of their bedroom. Sam was wrong. To do something, to do anything at all required not only skill and means to do it. First of all it required the will to do it. She couldn’t take Logan down even when her life had depended on it. When it had seem that everything was lost, and there was nothing left of Logan inside of the Destroyer, she couldn’t take him down.

She could hear Logan answering to Sam, but he spoke so low and hushed tone that she couldn’t discern any words. Next thing she really heard was when Logan raised his voice.

“…I’m fucking obsolete, Sam!…” Obsolete? Was that how he saw himself? She had to close her eyes and bite her lip to stop herself from getting up and telling both of them to just shut up and stop their childish bickering. Obsolete?

She could hear the stable door opening and closing. Logan sitting on the front porch and sighing wearily. She could see him sitting there, as clear as if he was sitting right in front of her in this room. Elbows propped against his knees. Jaw lowered resting on his palms. Eyes staring to nothing, and to everywhere from under bangs that had gotten all too long for his tastes, but he hadn’t gotten around to ask her to cut his hair because there had been million other things to take care of before he could take care of himself. Not tomorrow.

Tomorrow nobody would do anything. She’d take care of it. They would sit down and talk things through before anything bad happened. Before Sam would try to take on Logan in real. Before Logan lost his temper. Before she’d lost what little was there left of her temper. They’d all sit down and talk things through together, even if it killed them all to the spot.

That little get-together really did nearly cost their lives to them.

There they were, sitting in the small kitchen. Breakfast just finished. Logan cradling a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, staring at Sam suspiciously when the boy recited his tale of what he had been doing these past years. Marie was washing dishes, horrified of the brutality Sam had faced after Logan had left him with the caravan, but satisfied that they were all sitting in the same room, relatively quietly and peaceful.

“… I saw them. For the first time I saw one of them. The enemy. Have you heard those ‘eyewitness descriptions’ where people tell you about how the Aliens look?” Sam had asked. Logan had just grunted something and stood up, reaching for the coffee pot on the side table when it had happened.

Sharp metallic snap echoed in the kitchen. Logan stood for few seconds, one hand frozen in midair, other still holding the empty coffee cup. Then he was falling, something small and black lodged to his forehead. A bullet. She was screaming. Another shot, and Sam went down, falling to the floor. Mindless of the possible injury she dashed to where he laid. Sam was alive, blood pooling around his left shoulder and unconscious, but alive.

She could hear Logan groaning softly and getting up. Opening the door and walking outside. Bullets hitting his flesh, tearing him open and splattering blood on to the porch and the small window. He just shrugged them off like they were nothing. His healing was working overtime, she could tell from the way he was already sweating, and how fast the wounds were closing. He was walking straight in to the hail of bullets, approaching the shooters calmly.

Not Army. Just a group of bandits, five of them. Desperate enough to attack in plain daylight. Logan reached them, and snapped their necks, one after another. She turned to Sam, trusting that Logan could take care of the situation outside.

Looked like they had been lucky. Bullet had gone straight through, and it hadn’t broken bones or any major veins. Wound was bleeding, but blood was not pulsing out, and Sam was clawing his way back to consciousness.
“Mom…”
“Hush. I’m here. I’ll take care of you…” She tore off her apron and pressed it against the wound, trying to stem the blood flow. Sam squirmed and whimpered, but seemed to understand what she was doing
“What happened…”
“It was not the Army. Just some bandits. Logan’s taking care of them.” She could hear him walking back in, heavy boots clunking against the floorboards.
“It went straight through. Could you give me a towel from the clo…” Words died in her throat when she turned her head and instead of worried hazel she met indifferent yellow stare of the beast.

“Mom?” Sam called her, tried to get her attention, but she was unable to answer. Unable to move. She could only stare at the monster standing at the doorstep. Bloodied and torn predator who was staring back at her, recognition swirling in his eyes.
“Mom?” She couldn’t even breathe when Wolverine stepped closer.

“Breeder. Where the fuck are all the mechanics?” Destroyer asked, crouching next to her, eyeing the wound on Sam’s shoulder with mild curiosity. Sam didn’t seem to hear, didn’t seem to understand that something was wrong.
“I asked you a question. Do we have a mechanic with us?” Wolverine asked, turning his yellow stare from Sam to her. Finally she found some stray shed of strength and tried to crawl away from him, legs paralyzed, horrified whimper stuck in her throat bleeding slowly out. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. She had been shot too, and this was just some horrible hallucination, the last grotesque vision before her heart would stop and it would all be over.

Except that hallucinations didn’t talk. They didn’t grab your ankle to prevent you from running.
“I asked you a question. Where is our mechanic? This unit needs fixing.” Finally Sam seemed to realize that something was wrong. His eyes narrowed.
“Dad? What the hell are you talking about?” He whispered with dry lips, his gaze darting between Marie and Wolverine.
“Sam, don’t…” Marie whispered, trying to avert her gaze from Wolverine’s face. The less contact with him, the better. Sam didn’t seem to have gotten that manual. The one where they told you to how to deal with Destroyers. Instead of trying to appear harmless he grabbed Wolverine’s arm.
“What is going on?” Wolverine huffed and swatted his hand off.
“No touching. Stay down, stay quiet, somebody will come and fix you up soon,” Destroyer grunted, stood up and grabbed Marie again. This time she really screamed, screamed her lungs out when Wolverine dragged her after him to the front porch.

Hard slap on her cheek made her stop screaming.
“Look at me.” She kept her eyes cast downwards. She wasn’t going to look at him no matter what.
“Look at me. That’s an order, fucking breeder, look at me!” She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. This was it. The last pun from life before this all was over. Hard hand grabbed her chin and tilted her face upwards. She closed her eyes, but she could feel Wolverine’s breath on her face when the Destroyer leaned closer and inhaled deeply.
“They gave you to me. Then they took you away.” She whimpered and tried to pull away from her. She felt his tongue on her cheek, just a quick dart over tears that had fallen.
“You were carrying our cub. That unit inside… It’s him, isn’t it?” She couldn’t answer, but she was sure Wolverine could read the answer from her scent.
“And we’re all AWOL. You have done good, little breeder.”

She sat on the porch with Sam. Bleeding had stopped and she had cleaned and bandaged the wound on his shoulder. Sam was still weak and disoriented, pale as a sheet. His paleness had probably more to do with what was going on in front of the stable than the blood loss.

“He’s your real father. The monster they made.” Marie spoke with toneless voice, her eyes glued to the sight in front of them.
“Destroyer? But how… What is he doing?” Sam asked, wincing when the noise of snapping bones and tearing flesh reached his ears.
“Taking care of the situation. Making sure that nobody can fix them,” Marie said.

Something had happened. Last thing he could remember was lying on a cool slab of metal, excruciating pain tearing through his whole body. Machine had been working, trying to pull out something that wasn’t there anymore. Last hours it had been guzzling his blood instead of sperm it had been designed to collect. He had tried to tell them, tell them to stop and let him rest and recover, he’d be able to continue after a while, but they hadn’t listened.

Next thing he realized he was laying face down, his head still ringing from the blow, and stench of blood and fear were nearly strong enough to gag him. Breeder’s fear. Cub’s blood. It was clear that something had happened. Full-grown cub was living proof that quite some time had passed since he had been conscious the last time. And there was no stench of Army. Gunpowder, yes. Group that had attacked them were civilians.

“He… He already killed them. Is that really necessary?” Sam asked with quivering voice.
“I don’t know.” She was too tired and dazed to think. For her relief Wolverine hadn’t demanded that they’d continue following the program. Looked like Sam was enough proof for him, made him satisfied.
“Should I go and help?” Sam asked.
“No. You don’t go to him. You don’t talk to him. Not unless he approaches you first. Try not to look in to his eyes or his face. Stay small and harmless.”

He could hear them talking. Breeder and the cub. They were talking about him. How the cub should stay away from him. How they both should stay away from him. That was probably the wisest. He wasn’t built to deal with them.

He swiped off long strands of hair that kept falling over his eyes. Sticky mess of blood, shit and other fluids glued them back against his skull. Much better. He’d have to ask the breeder cut them shorter when he was done with this.

“He told me… When we were driving in his truck that night… Told me about everything he could remember. At first I didn’t believe. I didn’t want to believe and tried not to listen. It was too… Oh, my God. I think I’m going to be sick… Can we go inside?” Sam asked. Marie shook her head.
“I don’t want to aggravate him. We’d better stay where he can see us.” She wanted to go back inside. She wanted to take the truck and run, but that would have been futile. Wolverine would hunt them down no matter where they went.

He could smell his own scent, heavily imprinted on everything surrounding him. He had spent quite some time in here. The man had spent quite some time in here with the breeder. Cub was newer arrival. And from the looks of it seen some real battles. The War was still going on. He couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. He was through with them. Through with the Army. He had given them everything he had to give, and they had taken even more. Not anymore. He was finished.

Thighbone of this one was little trickier to chop up, but he managed to crush it. Had to make small pieces. They would rot faster. If he let the carcasses here like this, place would crawl with rats and other small critters, and judging from the condition of this place, the man and the Breeder had worked hard to get this far. He wouldn’t stick around much longer, but he was going to make sure they could keep on living in here before he left.

It looked like Wolverine was finally finished. For a moment he just stood there, covered to grit and grime, surveying his handiwork. Stepped closer to the sticky, slippery pile of mutilated bodies and hacked open a ribcage he had missed earlier, then sheathed his claws.
“Do you have any gasoline?” She heard him shout.
“No. We use solar power,” she answered. Wolverine grimaced.
“These will draw rats. They’ll eat you out of the house before you even notice.” And why the fuck should he care? It wasn’t like he was a farmer. Far from it. Before she had the time to stop him, Sam stood up shakily, clearing his throat.

“I think I saw something at the back of the stable. I’ll come and show it to you…” Cub was walking closer. Nearly stumbling over his own feet. Breeder had made a good work bandaging his wound, but he was still weak. He extended his hand, claws straining at their sheaths. Every instinct screaming to release them, but he kept himself checked. Urged the cub to wrap his arm around his neck and lean on to him. Cub’s closeness was unnerving at least. To be this close to another unit, bleeding and dying unit was tantamount to suicide in the battlefield.

“Show me.” She could hear Wolverine command with low voice. Sam threw a glance towards her over his shoulder. Wolverine’s right hand curled around his waist when the boy threw his arm around Destroyer’s neck. They walked slowly towards the stable, then disappeared from her view through the door in to darkness inside.

“I know what you did to her. I don’t want you to touch her anymore. Is that clear?” Cub growled when they got out of Breeder’s hearing range. That alone should have alerted him that something wasn’t right. He put it away as delirious rambling and kept walking, half carrying the cub towards the corner he had pointed. Cub’s hand started to slide lower from his shoulders, and he was getting heavier, leaning against him even more than before. Suddenly something sharp pierced his back, just under his right shoulder blade, slicing open tissues and lodging firmly between his metal-coated bones, shredding his right lung.

Cub was breathing, unconscious. He was barely breathing, every move opening the gash inside of him larger, tearing veins. Urge to cough came and went, then returned with vengeance when he twisted sharply, reaching for the handle of the knife sticking out from his back. His fingers grasped it, then slipped when series of coughs and gags forced him to lean on his both hands to avoid falling on his face to the growing puddle of his own blood that was pouring from his nose and mouth. He’d have to get away from here. He’d have to hide until he was fit again. It was impossible to breathe. Impossible to stop coughing even though he knew it did more harm than good. He was drowning to his own blood. Torn tissues refused to heal around the offending object. He forced himself upright, covering his mouth with his palm, trying to stifle itching, burning feeling inside of him. Something was blocking the doorway. The breeder. Had she come for Cub’s aid? She must have heard his surprised shout when he had knocked him unconscious.

“Let me pass… Let me pass and I won’t hurt you…” Wolverine gurgled through the blood. She stepped aside. She could hear Sam breathing. At least Destroyer hadn’t killed him. Wolverine staggered past her, and she could see what had happened. Handle of Sam’s knife was sticking out of his back.

He could more sense than hear her reaching out. Hand wrapping around the handle. Sickening feel of it sliding out. He fell on his knees, waiting. Waiting for her to finish it. Instead he heard the soft clunk of knife falling to the ground. Hands wrapping around him, helping him up again, towards the house. He tried to push her away. It wasn’t safe; she should go and seek cover. It wasn’t over yet. Enemy was still alive.

Not the enemy. No. Cub. Not the enemy.
“Fix me.” It was hard to speak. She was trembling, out of fear or from the sheer weight of him? It was impossible to tell, all he could smell was his own blood blocking his airways and sinuses.
“Fix me.” Wound was closing already, blood clotting, turning to sticky goop inside of him. She helped him to sit on the porch when he started to crumble, wheezing, coughing and splattering out thick strands of dark red lumps and clots.
“Fix me…” Mantra they had trained to speak out. He knew he couldn’t stop before the crisis passed. It was built in to him; part of program intended to draw attention of the mechanics.
“Fix me.” He felt her lips closing around his mouth and nose. Pressure easing slowly when she sucked off clotted blood and spat it to side.

She wiped her mouth, pulled a bucketful of water from the well and tried to rinse off disgusting taste and feel of it from her tongue. She didn’t know why she had done it. What had made her do it. Wolverine was observing her, breath still wheezing and rattling, but at least he was able to breath now.
“Little mom… Take care of them…” Beast growled. Slight shudder went through his frame and he fell on his back, whole body limp.

She wasn’t just a Breeder. He didn’t know if they had a name for a unit like her. Back in his days there hadn’t been. There hadn’t been other units like him and her. He chose a word he had heard sometimes used from civilians by their Cubs. Mom. It sounded more than a Breeder. He was going to leave now, but he had to make sure they’d be alright.
“Little mom… Take care of them…”

She swirled around when she heard Sam’s footsteps.
“What the hell where you thinking?” She hissed.
“I was thinking that I wasn’t going to watch you get hurt again. What the hell were you thinking? Coddling that psychotic freak! You should have let him die!” Sam growled clutching his hurt shoulder and rubbing rather large bruise on the side of his jaw.
“It was none of your concern! He wasn’t going to…”
“It is my concern. I wasn’t there, I couldn’t be there for you for the first time he raped you, but I wasn’t as sure as hell going to just stand aside and watch him do it again!”
“It happened long time ago. We have handled the issue by ourselves. It wasn’t easy to get over, but we did get over it. I suggest you try the same. Stop blaming him for something neither us was able to prevent!”

She turned her back to Sam and went to check on Logan. For Logan it was who now sat on the porch, dazed hazel eyes fixed to the pile of corpses laid out in front of stable.
“Hi. Welcome back.”
“Back? What happened? I remember that I was going to get some more coffee…” Logan asked, his brows knitting together in confusion.
“Bandits attacked. Sam got shot, but he’s alright now. We’re all alright now. You took care of it. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up…” She whispered, urging him to stand up and follow her to the well. She could hear Sam walking behind them, muttering and whispering angrily.

“Sam got shot? Was it bad?” Logan suddenly asked, swiveling around, his eyes scanning Sam from head to toes.
“I’ll live,” Sam spat, his eyes blazing from suppressed rage.
“Good. Good.” Logan sat on the brim of the well while Marie pulled up a bucketful of water, his eyes still boring in to Sam. The boy was staring at him like he was going to attack at any moment now.
“Mom?”
“Not now, Sam. Could you go and get some clean clothes for both of you.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Sam grunted stubbornly, sitting to the ground and leaning his back against the grey stone wall of the house. Logan tilted his head.
“Marie?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t say a word. Just started unbuttoning his ruined, blood soaked shirt. He took her hands to his own and forced her to stop, to look in to his eyes.
“Why does Sam think that he can’t leave me alone with you?”
“Wolverine paid us a visit while you were unconscious,” She blurted when it came apparent that Logan wasn’t going to let her go before he got an answer.
“I took care of those bandits?” Logan asked. Marie nodded. Sam snorted bitterly.
“Yeah. You took care of them. I wonder what else you would have taken care of if I hadn’t stopped you…”
“Stop! Just stop it, Sam!” Marie shouted.
“What else did I do?” Logan asked, ignoring Sam.
“Nothing. After it was over he just… Wolverine just went away.” Marie’s eyes were begging him to drop the subject. He couldn’t. He had to know.
“It doesn’t work that way. We both know that Wolverine doesn’t just go away. I can’t… We can’t switch personalities like that. What made him go away?” He asked. Marie shook her head.
“Nothing happened. Wolverine just sat down, and next it was you sitting there…”
“I stabbed you. I told you earlier I could stop you long enough, and I did,” Sam said and stood up.
“And I will do it as many times as it necessary. I won’t let you hurt mom.”

“Did I try to hurt you?” Logan asked when Sam had walked away.
“No. And Wolverine actually sounded happy when he noticed that we weren’t with the Army anymore. It was weird. I tried to keep Sam away from him, but he wouldn’t listen. After Wolverine had chopped up the bodies he wanted to know if we had any gasoline so that he could burn them. Sam tricked you in to the stable and stabbed you in the back. He knew what he was doing. If I hadn’t taken the knife out, you’d probably have died. You nearly drowned to your blood.”
“I didn’t think he had it in him. I guess I was wrong. But this shit has got to end before somebody really gets hurt,” Logan grunted, tugging off his clothes and taking the bucket filled with water.
“I’ll talk to him. And this time I’m going to make sure that he listens,” he said.

He found Sam from the stable. The boy was trying to put reigns to the camels with one hand, spewing curses at them when they refused to cooperate. Logan took the reigns from him and threw them to a corner, wincing slightly. He’d have to sort them out later, but now he had more important matter to handle than a bundle of leather and cloth straps.
“What? What are you going to do now? Beat me? Claw me?” Sam snorted, his chin held high, anger still hot in his eyes.
“For what? For doing something I would have done myself? I don’t think so. But we need to talk. Sit,” Logan said, gesturing towards small stool near the stable’s door.
“I rather stand,” Sam grunted. Logan shrugged his shoulders.
“As you like…” He walked to the corner and picked up the reigns. Might as well sort them out while they talked.

“I know you did it to protect your mom. But stunts like that… They have got to stop if you’re planning to stay here with us. Yes. I raped her. Yes. It happened several times. Yes, you were probably right when you took down Wolverine. But… They were different times. We were different people. It’s all in the past. This is now,” he said, rising the reigns.
“I lo… I need her. She needs me. Neither of us needs the shit you’re trying to drag upon us. Let it go before I forget that you’re our son.”

She was cleaning up the mess from the kitchen when she saw from the window Logan steering camels towards the desert, gruesome load of Wolverine’s handiwork behind him on the trolley. She couldn’t see Sam. She wasn’t worried. Logan hadn’t sounded angry earlier, just tired. Sick and tired of the boy’s antics. Just like her. She loved Sam. Yet she couldn’t deny dark and ugly feelings that colored that love. Anger. Hate. Plain frustration over his incapability to understand life.

She was kneeling on the floor, trying to clean off sticky puddle of Sam’s blood before it soaked in to the wood permanently when she heard the sound of the truck’s engine. Angry roar as it started, then steady purr. She bolted to the window. She could see Sam driving past the stable. Was he leaving? Taking the truck? How the hell did he think she and Logan were going to get by without the truck? She was about to run outside, after the retreating vehicle when she saw Logan turning on the trolley and waving his hand towards the truck as goodbye. What the hell was going on? She discarded the rag she had been mopping the floor with. It landed to the bucket with wet splash, coloring the water in there almost dark red.

“Where did he go?” Logan turned from his task of digging grave, shoved the shovel to the ground and went to trolley.
“I gave him some money and told him to go and get that water pump and hose from the settlement.” He started to go through pile of body parts, dragging biggest of them down to ground. His mouth was set to thin, almost white line, eyes narrowed.
“You gave him money and our truck! Are you insane?” Logan glanced at her briefly from the corner of his eye, then started dragging something that reminded distantly a ribcage towards the grave he had dug.
“Logan! What if he’s not coming back?” Carcass landed in the grave with a squishy thud.
“He’s coming back. Don’t worry about it.”
“But… How can you be so sure? Why would he return? We haven’t done nothing much but fought with him for the whole time he has been in here.”
“I had to force him to leave. It’s a small miracle if that trip takes him even a full month,” Logan grunted, throwing yet another grimy lump to growing pile at the bottom of the grave.
“Shit. Should have dug a deeper hole. These won’t fit all in there…” He muttered, eyeing the pile disgusted grimace on his face.
“Why? Why now?” Marie asked.
“We needed a vacation. Few days more and I would have gutted him,” Logan confessed, eyes still cast to the grave.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m being an asshole and he would have needed rest, but… I can’t take it anymore. I’m up to my fucking eyebrows of his whining.”

She had to turn away and cover her mouth when Logan suddenly jumped in the grave and started stomping bloodied mess in there.
“I’m not going to dig anymore… Get the fuck down already!” She started to walk away when sound of snapping bones reached her ears.
“Marie!” Sound of his voice made her stop.
“Give me a hand?” She couldn’t suppress hysteric giggle that escaped from her lips when she turned around and walked to the trolley.
“Which one?” There were several of those among heads and unrecognizable bits and pieces of flesh.
“Very funny. Just throw that shit in here. I’ll make it fit…” Logan growled.

“You do know that I wouldn’t hurt you, right?” She gazed up from the book she was reading. Logan was sitting on a chair next to hers, his eyes cast to flickering flames in the fireplace.
“You know that I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t hurt you like I did back then?” He had just gotten back home from watering the field and they had eaten in complete silence. His sudden questioning made her flinch.
“I know.”
“Good. Because I wouldn’t. I won’t… If anything happens, if they come, I want you to take care of it. You have to make sure that they can’t use me like that anymore.”

She didn’t like the way this conversation had taken.
“And how exactly I’m supposed to do that?” She asked, throwing the book she had been reading aside. It landed with a soft thud near the fireplace. Logan leaned forward and picked it up. Fiddled through few pages.
“If it happens, if they come, I want you to take me down. You can do it. With the blue mist. Just make sure that there’s nothing left from me to recover.”
“Logan, no. I can’t…”
“Yes. You can. Yes. You will. They fucked up us both the last time for good. I’d rather die than put you through that hell again. At least that way they can’t use me…”
“Logan, no!”
“Yes. I will not rape you. Never, ever again. I will not mate with you in a cage like some fucking animal. And that’s exactly what they’re after. Either I find a way to kill you, or you do me in. And I’m that much of a selfish coward that I don’t want to be the one left behind. I’m afraid of what I’d become without you.”
“I don’t even know how to use it!” Marie noted triumphantly. She didn’t know what triggered the reaction that drew forth the deadly mist from her pores, ergo it was impossible for her to use it against Logan.

“You don’t have to know how to use it. You have to be scared enough. That’s all what it takes. And I’m nearly pissing my pants from even the thought of getting caught again. Can’t be much different for you. I’m going to glue myself to you if I see even one armored vehicle approaching.”
“You might as well rape me. Right here, right now,” she spat.
“Marie, no…”
“No! Now you listen to me! I will not kill you! I won’t do it! You can’t make me!” She hated how her voice started to crack, but she had to make him understand.
“You were probably the only reason I got through that whole mess.”
“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even have gotten in there in the first place.”
“No. I would have died with my father without you. But that’s not the point. I learned something important from you. No matter what happens, we can get through it. We will get through it, together.”
“Marie…”
“When… No. If they come, we’ll fight. We’ll fight as long as we can. The way I see it, we’re both pretty darn durable. We can take almost anything they have to throw against us. We’ll fight until there’s nobody left to fight against. I’ll die before I let them get their hands on us again. I’ll die fighting, not bawling my eyes out because I accidentally killed the man I love.” With that said she rose from where she sat and walked stiffly in to the bedroom, closing the door after her.

Surprisingly she slept through the night. When she woke up she felt good and rested. For the first time in years she hadn’t woken to ugly memories from the past. Logan hadn’t come to bed, but that was nothing new. Whenever they got in to disagreement he would slink back and sulk on his own until he got his thoughts cleared. It was a good, nice morning up until she walked in to the kitchen and found a note lying on the table, written with Logan’s strong, no-nonsense hand. He never left notes. Never.

‘Out on the field. Don’t wait up, I’ll be getting back late.’

Was it stupid to get worried over few words scribbled on to paper? Few words telling her that she shouldn’t bother herself with cooking because Logan had probably taken his lunch and dinner with him, and he’d be getting back home late in the night. Except that he never left notes. Usually he came to talk with her in person.

She threw her clothes on hastily. She’d have to find him. Something was wrong.

Sun was rising. She could hear Ug and Glug mooing in the stable. Irrigation trolley sat next to stable. She could see Logan in the distance, at the end of the field. He was sitting on the ground; his back turned towards their home. She started to run to his direction. Sand was scorching hot under her bare feet, sinking under every step she took. Crop Logan had been tending with utter care prickled the soles of her feet, sharp, dried up twigs snapping under her weight. Dry sand. Dead crop. There was something wrong.

Logan wasn’t moving. She called his name, but there was no reaction from his part. When she got to him and laid her hand on his shoulder he started to crumble under her touch. Clothes sagged, and dark blue sand poured out from every hole, revealing gleaming metal bones underneath.

She woke up screaming. For a moment she couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the agonized wail that tore forth from her throat. Then Logan was there, his strong hands curling around her, pulling her against his solid chest.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Marie. I shouldn’t have asked you to do it. I’m sorry. You don’t have to do it. I’m sorry…”

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m just so fucking sick and tired of being afraid all the time,” Logan whispered. He sat leaning his back against the headboard of their bed, Marie cradled against his chest. She was still trembling slightly, but at least she had stopped screaming.
“You said it yourself earlier. You don’t even know if they’re coming. And there’s nothing we can do about it anyway. We can’t stop them if they’re on their way to us already. But that doesn’t mean that we should give up and leave with them willingly. We both know how to fight. We’ll give them hell.” Marie mumbled, her words partially muffled against his chest. Logan sighed and combed his fingers through her tangled hair.
“We’ll give them hell alright…”

She nearly fell asleep, his warmth surrounding her and his heartbeat echoing against her ear. She nuzzled even tighter against him, and frowned when buttons of his shirt dug to her cheek.
“Take this off…” She mumbled, yanking the shirt open. Buttons went flying to every direction, but right now it didn’t matter. And it wasn’t like Logan cared. It wasn’t him who got to sew them back in the morning. She cuddled against his bare chest with satisfied sigh. She was still slightly angry, but it looked like Logan had realized his mistake. His hands returned stroking her hair and shoulders. Small circles, over and over again.

She was already falling asleep when she felt something hard poking against her side, just above her hip. She turned to better position and felt Logan’s hips jerk under her.
“Sorry… Could you move a bit, I have to…” Logan murmured. She shifted to the side and Logan unbuttoned his jeans, squirming them off. Her hand wrapped around his erection almost automatically, squeezing it gently. Logan’s eyes closed and his head fell back.
“I thought you were still mad at me…” He grunted when she let her fingers slide over his shaft and balls.
“I am.”
“Okay… Should I be worried?” He asked with shaky whisper when her fingers wrapped around his cock once more.
“No. You should be thinking proper ways to apologize,” she whispered, leaning closer and giving a quick kiss to the tip of his cock. Logan uttered string of curses softly under his breath.
“How the fuck am I supposed to think when you do something like that?”
“I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll figure out something…” Marie smirked, sucking the tip between her lips.

Her hands were everywhere, scraping over coarse hair covering the base of his cock, squeezing and rolling gently his balls while she licked and sucked. He tried to stay still, but it was impossible not to buck and thrust in to hot, slick cavern of her mouth. He would have wanted to lace his fingers through shiny, brown mass of her long hairs, but when he tried she grabbed his wrists and held them down.

“Honey, you have to… You have to stop…” She either didn’t hear, or decided not to listen. He could feel the pressure building up.
“Marie… You have to stop… Please…” If she didn’t stop soon, he’d come in her mouth and that wasn’t the way he wanted this to end. He struggled his hands free from her hold and pulled her off from him, hauling her higher on his body until he could reach her lips with his own.
“It’s my turn…” He whispered between hasty licks and nips and rolled them over. Move brought him between her thighs, forcing her to open. Scent of their arousals made his head spin. He started to crawl lower, but she stopped him.
“No. I want you now.”

He grasped her thighs and spread them even more apart, leaning back on his haunches. She was already glistening wet.
“Logan, please…”
“Tut-tut… I was supposed to apologize…” He smirked when she tried to tug him closer. He trailed her outer lips lightly with one finger.
“Logan!”
“Hush, or you’re not getting any…” For a moment he just enjoyed the view, then decided to grant her some mercy, and pushed slowly two fingers in to her quivering core. Small gasp she let out from the intrusion made the spring coil inside of him tighter. He pumped his fingers slowly back and forth, finding all the spots from which he could make her moan and scream. He spread her labia and let his thumb flick over her clitoris, once.
“Do you accept my apology?” He asked, nearly salivating from the feel, scent and sight of her.

She was fucking his hand, trying to gain as much friction as possible, and it wasn’t enough. She needed him, all of him before she could let loose, before she could break down.
“No… You’re still an asshole, but fuck me anyway…” She groaned, trying to capture his hand between her thighs. Logan tsked and pulled his hand away.
“Ask nicely.”
“You will sleep outside for the coming months if you don’t give me what I want right now!”

It was nice enough for him. He sheathed his cock in to her with one powerful thrust, making them both moan and shudder in unison.
“I really am sorry, Marie,” he whispered, burying his face against the side of her throat and nibbling the salty skin there lightly. She wrapped her hands and feet around him, pulling him as close and deep inside of her as possible.
“I’m sorry, too…” Apologies given and accepted.

It was quite anticlimactic. They had just woken up, Logan was getting ready to leave to the field, and Marie was washing dishes from their breakfast when three heavily armored vans drove in front of the house. There was a knock on the door. Logan went to answer it.

“Good morning, sir. We apologize the intrusion on this early hour, but we have a bit of a problem, and we were wondering if you were able to help us?” A man wearing the uniform of the United Earth’s Army asked politely. Logan had been ready to flash the claws, but now this unarmed, soft-spoken skinny boy threw him off the loop. Confused him enough that he actually asked what their problem was.
“As you probably know, your son, Samuel Logan, enlisted few years ago. Now he’s gone missing. We tracked him down here.”
“And?” Claws were itching dangerously close to the surface of his skin.
“Have you seen him?” Officer asked.
“What if I have?” Logan grunted, heart hammering at his temples. Any moment now. This had got to be a distraction. Any minute now armed Guards would swarm out from those vehicles parked on the yard.
“We were hoping we could persuade him to return to his unit. Have you, or have you not seen him?” Officer asked.

He could smell Marie’s fear. Not a good time for final meltdown.
“Could we take this outside? My wife… Ah… She’s… She doesn’t much appreciate you guys,” he explained, pushing officer in front of him, away from the door, towards the vehicles waiting in the morning sun.
“Oh, how inconsiderate of me! Of course. I’m very sorry for the intrusion, ma’am!” Officer shouted over Logan’s shoulder before retreating.

“Sam did come home. I don’t know what had happened to him, but he was a mess.”
“Yes. Yes, I would imagine that. He refused the therapy that was recommended to him,” officer nodded. Therapy? Logan felt hysteric giggle bubbling inside of him. This wasn’t going according to the book. The big handbook of how to deal with hostiles.
“It was ugly. He’d snap out on anything and everything. He even tried… He tried to kill his mother and me. He really didn’t leave me much choice…” He ran his fingers through his wild hair theatrically and closed his eyes. He could smell the change in officer’s scent. Slight tinge of curiosity.
“Didn’t leave a choice?”
“I had to kill him.”
“Oh…”
“Yes. We’re still… My wife and me, we’re still… It’s hard.” He hoped the expression on his face mirrored utter confusion and sorrow instead of insane grin that threatened to break free.
“Yes… Yes. I would imagine…” Officer muttered, his gaze sweeping the ground and rickety buildings, darting to vans, and back to Logan.
“Would it be possible… I’m very sorry, but I have to ask… Can you prove that what you say is the truth?”

“I really am sorry about this, but the protocol…”
“I understand. You have to follow the protocol. I just don’t know how much, if anything’s left,” Logan said, faking a sad shook of his head as they walked to the desert.
“I… It was awful. I was so afraid that he would hurt Marie. She was scared of him. You trained him well,” he continued. Officer nodded.
“Coming from a veteran I take that as a compliment. Of course standards aren’t quite as high today as they were in your days in the force, but we try our best.”
“Here it is,” Logan huffed, stopping in front of the grave he had dug earlier. Luckily wind had blown off some sand from the top of it, and he could see a shard of bone peeking up from the ground. He yanked it loose. It came up, accompanied by a wet squelching noise and stench of decay in the near vicinity of the grave skyrocketed. You could still recognize the lump he was holding as a part of human leg. Shattered thighbone attached to a kneecap. Officer paled.

“Do you need more? It’s all there. I could dig him up for you,” Logan offered. Officer turned to leave.
“That won’t be necessary.”

After he had been swarmed by the soldiers escorting the officer and asked to show his claws and even scribble his autograph several times they finally left. Packed themselves back to their little vans and drove off, leaving him standing to a cloud of dust and exhaust, few scraps of paper clutched tightly in his hand. Sam’s service record, and a request for all veterans to re-enlist and help to defend the earth.

“Well, that was weird,” Marie said from where she stood at the doorstep, wiping her hands dry to a towel. Logan scratched his head, trying to comprehend what exactly had just happened. Weird didn’t quite cover it. Giggle that had been building slowly inside of him finally broke through. He fell on his haunches and clamped his palm over his mouth to stifle it.