”I hate you.”

Those had been exact words what she had thrown at his face with venomous tone when he had told her his plan. The big plan of how they could both get nice and easy lives.

Ever since the search party sent after Sam had left, and idea had been buzzing in his mind. Whispering day and night, keeping him awake when he should have slept. Keeping him half slumber, almost trance-like state when he should have stayed awake. Not a day went by that he didn’t read through the slip of paper officer had shoved at his hand with Sam’s service record.

Of course he had been suspicious. It all looked too good. Too easy and neat.

Return to the force. Earth needs You. Full benefits for all veterans and their families. Opportunity to choose deployment.

They had fought. Insults had been traded, as well as few well-aimed punches and kicks. They had quite literally beaten the shit out of each other.
“I hate you…” She had hissed, sitting up from where she lay. Recovering first because he had held back, focusing on defending himself rather than returning to quick jabs and kicks she had rained on him.
“Love you, too, honey…” He had grunted, trying to crawl up on his hands and knees to prevent the blood oozing from his broken nose to the back of his throat.

They had cleaned up each other and then he had explained his plan to her, sitting in front of the cold fireplace, trying to find right words.

“I’m not sure how long we can keep this up. We make good money from the clothes you make, but that’s not enough. And they way things are developing, that field will be as barren as the rest of this fucking desert in few years.”
“But we have food. We can hunt…”
“Look around you. The only reason animals still stick around is that field. When it’s gone, they’re gone as well. There’s no future for us if we stay here.”
“But what about Sam?”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about him. He can stay and try his luck in here. He’s a big boy, he’ll figure out what to do when he gets bored of playing farmer.”
“But…”
“We can get back on the road. Hell, they’ll always need fresh blood in the fighting circuit. Or, we could take this offer, settle down and live a little.”
“Live? You call that a life?”
“Beats sucking dust and camel shit. Can I at least look in to this? There’s a draft office at the settlement. As soon as Sam gets back home, I could go there and ask…”
“You’ll do it anyway. Why do you even bother to run this through with me?”

It had taken several months. Several trips to the settlement, insane amount of fiddling and tinkering, paperwork and real, gut busting labor in the farm to ensure that Sam was able to run it on his own, and last but not least he had had to use all his almost non-existent skills in diplomacy to ensure Marie that it was a good idea to return to the force. But finally it was all settled, they could pack their bags and leave to start their lives over again.

His status as a veteran had earned him the possibility to choose whether he wanted to go to the front or stay back in the base as an instructor. He had chosen the latter. As an instructor he could spend his days training rookies, and in the end of each day he got to return home to Marie. Home. They had been given a small house, two rooms and a small kitchen from the officer’s district. Neighbors were very friendly and forthcoming, offering their help in furnishing the house and adapting to daily routines. Most importantly Marie and Logan being mutants hadn’t made any difference to them.

To Marie the change was more profound than to Logan. Since her rather destructive secondary mutation was uncontrollable, she spent her days in training. She had her own personal instructor, an elderly woman, who monitored her progress and gave her pointers of how she could most likely gain the control over the blue mist. Ariadne Woolcroft was human, but she had worked years in a group that studied mutations, and had gained quite an insight over most common trigger mechanisms for them.

She had Ariadne, and wives of the officers to keep her company during days. She hadn’t told them the full extent of her earlier experiences with the Old Army, as everybody referred nowadays, but enough for them to understood why she was reluctant, and downright fearful at times to leave her home. But even she had to admit that life was getting slowly better. She had Logan. She had friends. She was slowly mastering her mutations. And to get those all she didn’t have to struggle through every single day.

“Fucking morons. It’s a small miracle that you’re all still alive.” He had to admit that he enjoyed the reaction he managed to shook from his trainees every time he addressed them. Noisy, rowdy bunch of young, cocky men and women turned to shivering pack of mice as soon as he as much as opened his mouth to speak.
“This isn’t a game. There’s a real battle waiting for each and every one of you. At the end of this month you’re supposed to be good and ready to be sent out.” He paused for a moment, gauging their reactions. Few of them looked about ready to wet themselves.
“It’s up to me to decide which ones of you get to sent out. They need only the best. I want only the best. The rest of you, who won’t fit in to standards…” He paused again, then lifted his hand and unsheathed his claws for the effect.
“Those of you who won’t live up to expectations won’t live at all after I’m through with you.”

His superiors had seen it fit to give him the responsibility to welcome the new recruits. His mean attitude combined with the legend of his achievements in the Old War gave him certain power over them. He was able to pinpoint the ones not suitable to the battlefield from the beginning, and it was easier to steer them towards other positions. He also had the skills to mold the rest of the recruits to a tightly knit unit of machines, ready for anything.

Of course there were hundred and one things he had to learn himself as well. New protocols and methods, new equipment, more tactics, and most important of them all, he had had to learn to let go of his suspicions towards the uniformed people surrounding him. It was getting easier. He didn’t pop the claws every time when somebody approached him. He hadn’t tried to gut Dr. Jeffries when he had appeared to his office at the middle of the day with his kit, demanding a blood sample. He had only sent the good doctor away with few selected advices of from where and how exactly he could get the sample he was after. All in all, life was… Life. He got to scare the people, he got paid for doing it, and most importantly he had Marie.

It was his day-off when it all went sour.

He had taken the opportunity to sleep in the morning. Marie had been baking in the kitchen, and the aroma of fresh coffee and cookies had pulled him to pleasant state of half slumber, when sudden silence forced his eyes open. It was too quiet. Just a moment ago she had been humming happily, clattering and banging dishes and rustling with bags of sugar and flour, and now this. Almost deafening silence, and sickening feel of dread spreading over, covering scents of happiness and ease.

He got up and walked in to the kitchen. Marie was standing there; clutching a sheet of paper in her hands, face pale, almost ashen.
“Marie?” Paper fell from her fingers and she stomped on it with her feet, grinding down and nearly shredding it to pieces in the process.
“No. They can’t do this!”
“Marie?” He called her again. She swirled around her face twisted to angry grimace, rage burning in her eyes.
“I told you. I told you this would happen, but did you listen? No. You just had to have this your way…” She growled and stormed out, stopping only long enough to put on her shoes waiting at the door.

He hurried to the oven and took out the cookies before they burned to crisp. Taking one and munching on it he turned his attention to the paper on the floor. Picked it up and read it through.
“Holy shit.”

He couldn’t shake off the uneasiness and tension that had invaded him at the second he had stepped in to the building. A hospital. No matter what they called it now, it wasn’t a hospital. It was a hangar. A workshop. The source of pain.

“Just some small modifications, nothing too invasive,” the mechanic… No. The doctor waiting at him explained. He snorted, trying to hide his nervousness.
“Small modifications? That’ll be the day…” He muttered.
“Could you take off your shirt?”
“I think I could. Not so sure if I want to,” Logan grunted, his eyes narrowing when a lab technician wheeled in a small table covered with syringes and small gleaming steel devices. Scalpels. Wound retractors.
“I can assure you, that we’ll be taking every precaution to make this as fast and painless as possible,” the doctor said. Logan grimaced.
“Have to be fast. Won’t be painless. Anesthetics won’t do jack shit for me. Just strap me down and dig in. Sooner we get this over, the better for both of us,” he grunted.
“We do not ‘strap’ our patients down, as you put it,” doctor said. Logan huffed and shook his head. Unsheathed his claws.
“Let me make this very clear. My mutation eats that shit you have in those syringes like its fucking candy or something. Area you’re going to cut open is quite sensitive. I’ll fucking tear you apart, I’ll fucking tear everything and everybody within my reach apart if you don’t fucking bolt me down to that fucking operating table!”
“I’d do that if I were you.” Words made both men swivel around. Marie stood at the doorstep, looking not too happy.

“I’m sorry about this…” Regardless of his mutation and his request to be tied down during the procedure doctor Jeffries had attached an IV line to his jugular, just above his collarbone. It was slowly but steadily dripping numbing agents in to him, and they made him dizzy. He could only lay down, boneless and unable to move, when technicians attached his hands and feet to hastily constructed manacles on the operating table.
“Marie? I really am… I’m… Fuck.. Come closer, honey…” Double vision made it hard to see. She appeared to have a bright red aura around her, and all the details were blurred. He tried to squint his eyes to see more clearly. Marie. She really was there. She placed her hand on his chest.
“I don’t like this,” she whispered. He shook his head to clear off the cobwebs.
“Don’t like it either… But it’s just this one trip… After that retirement…” He chuckled weakly, nearly choking to his own saliva.
“Retirement… Sitting on a rocking chair on the front porch…”
“Like you could do that. Just admit it. You have wanted this all along. You can’t stand the idea of staying back when everybody else goes in to battle,” Marie spoke with a low, hushed tone, combing her fingers through his spiky hair. There was no accusation in her voice. She was just stating a fact they both had known already, but had been too afraid to admit.
“I’m still sorry… Kid? I love you…” Technician shoving the ventilator tube down to Logan’s throat made further conversation impossible. He could only watch with watering eyes when Marie was steered out from the room. Doctor Jeffries leaned over him, eyes twinkling gently behind his round glasses.
“We’ll be starting the procedure. Let us know if there’s any discomfort, and we’ll see if we can do anything about it.”

She wanted to scream for the injustice of it all. They had been promised a nice and cozy life at the base. And once again Army had screwed them. Logan had been assigned to a unit that would be leaving to the front line as soon as the group of recruits he was now training was ready. He’d be leading them in to battle. And as if that hadn’t been betrayal big enough, his superiors had decided that he needed to be ‘upgraded’. As if he were a machine they could tinker and tamper with all they liked.

She was too wound up to go home, but the unnerving silence behind the closed doors of the operating room made her nervous. Anxious to leave. She wanted to go in there, take Logan and leave the Army behind. But that wasn’t what Logan wanted. Just this one mission? She snorted bitterly. Just this one mission. Then the one after it was over. And then one more once it was over. Logan could pretend farmer or nice family man all he liked, but the reality had an ugly tendency to step in every now and then. This was what he was. A soldier. A perfect machine made for war and destruction. The sooner they both accepted it, the better.

She forced herself to stop pacing and sat waiting to a comfortable looking couch in the lounge.

“Get out. Every fucking one of you pricks, get out…” He was sweating bullets and spoke with hushed, raspy voice. When scalpel had parted his flesh for the first time he had bit through the ventilator tube and nearly choked to bits and pieces of it before he had managed to hack them out. Doctor Jeffries had wanted to end the operation then and there. Logan had told him the truth. There was no fucking way in hell Jeffries was going to get him under his knife ever again, so the good doctor had better do what he was going to do now.

It had taken two hours to install the necessary instruments inside of his arms. Normally procedure would have taken half of it, but Jeffries and his team had had hard time coping with his older modifications. Now that everything was over, he needed them to clear the room as fast as possible.

“Didn’t you hear me, doc? Get the fuck out…” He hissed when Jeffries started opening the manacles binding his feet, calm and determinant look on his face.
“I heard you. I’ll be leaving as soon as this is finished,” doctor said, releasing his ankles.
“Leave my wrists… It’s better if I take them off by myself…” Logan rasped when Jeffries moved to his side. Doctor shook his head.
“Impossible. I have already gone against everything I believe. I have to do something… Something to make it better.” Jeffries was a pale, red blotch of irritation burning over his cheekbones the only color on his face. First one manacle fell off, then the other. Last to go was the needle of the IV. That one Logan pulled off by himself, sitting up slowly, cradling his throbbing arms on his lap. Claws weren’t just itching. They were practically screaming for an outlet. Something, anything, anybody to sink them in to. Pour all the pain to somewhere.

Instead of backing off Jeffries stepped closer and tilted Logan’s head slightly backwards, peering in to his eyes.
“Why the hell did you come back? Why the hell you had to end up in here?” He couldn’t smell even the slightest hint of fear in Jeffries. Just utter tiredness and disgust towards doctor’s own actions.
“Have been wondering that… Don’t really know… Get off from my face, Jeffries…” Wolverine was waking up, pushing forward. Spewing poison, cursing him, cursing the doctor in front of him, cursing everybody and everything, bitter and enraged that he had been once again tampered.

Claws slid out from their sheaths, as well as the new installments, small round metal cylinders pushing through his actual knuckles and locking his hands to tight fists. Tips of the cylinders were already glowing angry red, blood on them charring and smoking. Miniature ray guns, designed to give him a chance to take out opponents that were too far for his claws to reach.

Jeffries took his left hand calmly, cradling it between his palms. Logan was practically trembling, trying to hold back the beast that tried to tear through. Jeffries raised the hand he was holding and brought the claws against his cheek, pressing lightly. Logan could only watch when blades parted doctor’s skin. Sight and scent of it seemed to please Wolverine, the Destroyer in him. It stopped fighting, slinked back, bloodlust satisfied.

He was able to sheathe his weapons. Jeffries let go of his hand almost reluctantly.
“I’ll be finishing now. You were my last patient,” doctor said, turning and leaving.

He waited until he couldn’t hear doctor’s footsteps anymore before he stepped down from the table. World tilted alarmingly, and he had to brace himself against the table. He waited for a moment, breathing deeply. Drugs were slowly clearing out from his system.

He unsheathed again, wincing when the barrels of the lasers tore through cartilage. Tips of them were hot enough to cauterize the wounds they made. They would cool down as soon as they slid back in his hands. He’d spent the coming week in training, learning to use them properly. Learning to use his claws again properly. Lasers were relatively light, but they threw him off balance anyway. He’d have to get accustomed to them before he could go out to the field.

She had gotten up from the couch when doctor Jeffries had walked out from the operating room. Doctor had stopped her.
“Don’t go in there. I think… I think he needs a moment to… He needs to be alone now.” There had been bleeding gashes, three in a row on doctor’s cheek.
“How… What happened?” She asked, reaching tentatively towards the wounds. Jeffries didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back even though he knew about her mutation. She hadn’t touched him.
“Nothing happened. He’ll be alright. I’ll be going now. I think I’m the last person your… Your husband needs to see right now,” doctor had said and turned to leave.

Husband. Though everybody struggled to treat mutants as they were equal, nobody had referred to Logan as her husband before this. It wasn’t legal to marry a mutant.
“Doctor Jeffries?” She called after him. Man stopped and turned to look at her.
“Thank you.” Doctor flinched as if she had slapped him.
“You shouldn’t be thanking me.”

He steadied his breath and took a careful step towards the door. His knees were still wobbly, and his field of vision distorted, but he forced himself to stand upright. He wasn’t going to let the people outside see any signs of weakness. He was the Wolverine, The Destroyer, meanest, toughest fucker walking on the earth.

Marie was waiting for him. She glued herself to his side, offering support. He pushed her away.
“Not now…” He forced back nausea that was gnawing his stomach. Marie turned away, clearly hurt.
“Wait… Let me take your hand…” It wouldn’t do to stumble against objects. He grabbed her arm just above her elbow. Tried to appear as if he was escorting her rather than the other way around when they walked out.

She could feel him trembling from the effort it took to keep going. She moved closer and slid her hand around his waist, draping his hand around her shoulders. This time he let her do it, grabbing her hard.
“Not from there… We have to find another route…” Logan hissed when she turned them towards home. Shortest route would have taken them past training facilities and recruit’s barracks.
“Don’t be stupid. You can barely walk,” Marie admonished him. Logan shook his head.
“I don’t want them to see me like this… I don’t want anybody see me like this…”
“I see you,” she pointed out.
“It’s different… You already know you can take my head off anytime and anyway you like… They don’t have to get any ideas…”
“Logan, you’re just paranoid. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
“I have done it myself… Easy to get rid of the people you don’t like… Just wait; there’ll come a moment when they’re weak… Nobody suspects anything… Heart failure, crazed enemy unit sneaking in and out, stumbling over sharp objects… Oh, look. There they come.”

Group of uniformed men and women were approaching from the barracks. Marie couldn’t recognize them, but it was obvious that Logan knew them. And they knew Logan. Some of them were quite obvious mutants, some probably human. Logan snarled and straightened his stance, letting go of her and standing on his own feet, head held high, hands clenched to loose fists on his side.
“Today’s day-off. Tomorrow we’ll return to normal training schedule!” His voice carried strong and coarse, more growl of an animal than actual words.
“We figured that much, Commander. But we were told you’d need more time to recover…” One of the recruits, red haired young man started. Logan grimaced and spat.
“I could take down your whole pathetic pack right now if I wanted. Day-off is for me to calm down so that at least few of you could survive through the training. Scoot! I don’t want to see your miserable faces before tomorrow morning!”
“Yes, sir, Commander Wolverine, sir!” Group scattered to all directions

“Weren’t you a little harsh?” Marie asked when Logan visibly paled and slumped against her. He had exhausted all his reserves with his little display.
“I have to be… One day I have to ask them to give everything… And they will have to obey, no questions asked… How the fuck… Could I expect that to happen if they don’t look up to me? They have to hate and fear me enough to do as I tell them to do even when… When they think it’s not wise…”
“But wouldn’t it be better if…”
“I know what I’m doing! …Shit…”
“Do you need to sit down?”
“Not now… Not here… Just take me home…”

He lay on the bed, shivering from exhaustion. Marie was in the kitchen, rummaging through closets and cupboards, looking for something. His hands were throbbing. They felt too big and swollen, skin stretched taut. Every time he moved his fingers he could feel the barrels of the lasers scraping against metal coating of his bones. Sound of it vibrated up his arms and echoed inside of his skull. Small, sharp grating noise. He’d have to learn to tune it out. But not now. He was too tired to think about anything, let alone learn new tricks and gimmicks. The stuff Jeffries had pumped in his veins did little in alleviating the pain, but it really messed up his head. Made him too tired to care.

Suddenly scent of honey surrounded him. He cracked his eyes open. Marie was sitting on the bed, his right hand on her lap. She was rubbing something on his skin, covering every inch of his arms from elbows to the tips of his fingers.
“I found this from the marketplace few weeks ago. Spent entirely too much for this. But I’m glad I did…” She said, rubbing his arm gently.

He could feel Wolverine hovering closer, suspicious, but more curious of what was happening than willing to come out to take care of the possible threat. He closed his eyes and let the beast get lost to his muddled, murky brain.

He’d always guarded the border of them two, the thin sharp line where beast ended and the man begun. Always on his toes, keeping the animal back. The Destroyer had always been too unstable and vicious to be able to interact with the world; war was the playground for it. He had hated the thing. Hated and feared it, because it didn’t belong. Didn’t belong to anywhere except the battle. The added weight of the crime Wolverine had committed to Marie, the ultimate violation had made Logan even more hateful and suspicious towards the beast. And he wasn’t willing to take the blame that would fall partially on him if he ever let the beast mingle with his mind.

“It’s okay… Just let go…”
“Huh?” His eyes fluttered open again.
“You can let go of me, I’m not going anywhere,” Marie promised, trying to pry his fingers off from around her wrist.
“Sorry…” He whispered and let go. He wasn’t. Not really. Wolverine wasn’t. It had been Wolverine grabbing her. Had to be, because Logan had no recollection of doing so.

“I have been thinking… Which one of you is leaving? Which one’s going to come back?” Marie asked, shuffling over to his left side and started lathering his arm with mixture of honey and beeswax.
“Which one?” Logan asked, pretending to be puzzled. He knew very well what she was talking about.
“You, or… Or Wolverine,” Marie clarified.
“Does it matter? We’re the same,” he finally spoke the truth, something he should have admitted long time ago.
“It matters. I want to be able to trust you. I don’t want to keep guessing with which I’m talking with. I don’t want to keep guessing with which I’m making love to. I need to know.”
“Do you trust me?” Logan asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you hate me?”
“Not all of you.”
“Will you hate me more if… If I take him in?”
“No.”

He closed his eyes and searched his mind for the beast. It was there, almost reluctant presence at the back, dormant now. He hated it. He needed it. It didn’t matter, he didn’t have to like it, but it was part of him, and it was time to accept it. Keeping a dual personality had kept him sane and safe for the most part of his life, but it was time to end it.

He could smell them all around him, hiding in the maze of pipes, metal mesh and concrete. He couldn’t hear them. But he could tell from the scents that they were on the move, closing in on him as he sat waiting. They worked just as he had expected. Most of them had formed a tightly knit group, working together as one entity. Only few of them had chosen a different approach, coming after him alone. He wasn’t particularly worried over those working in a group. They were predictable, playing by the book no matter the outcome. No. They were no reason to worry. His greatest concern was one of the solos. Vasquez. Little bitch that the other recruits called Bodycount. What she lost in height she had replaced with muscle and sheer stubbornness and nasty attitude. She was a mutant, with the ability to manipulate and re-animate dead tissues on a cellular level. It hadn’t come to him as a surprise that team had practically forced her to take on the responsibilities of the mecha… Medic.

He shook his head. He’d have to learn the new terminology. But now wasn’t the time for that. He reached his right hand and smirked when his fingers wrapped around thick neck, his left fist pressing against warm back.
“And you’re dead, Anderson…” He whispered, leaving the cursing recruit, slinking back to shadows in search of a new hiding place.

Half an hour later he had managed to ‘kill’ all but one. Vasquez was still on the loose. And she seemed to have no intentions of getting caught. Couple of times it had been close, but on both times the woman had managed to squirm her way out of the trap unscathed. He was getting edgy. There was no way he was going to let the little bitch win him in his own game. No way. She’d make a mistake. Sooner or later she’d make a mistake and he’d be there, reaping the rewards.

He crept quietly forward, small smirk spreading on his lips when he spotted Vasquez. She was leaning against concrete pillar, every muscle coiled, peering towards something in the darkness. Big, dark lump, just the right size to pose as crouched man. He crept closer. Close enough to touch her, and still she wasn’t moving. Clock was ticking. Only few seconds left, and the session would be over.

He reached with his hand just as alarms triggered and strong floodlights flashed on, indicating that the exercise was over. When his eyes adjusted to the new level of lighting he smirked. His fingers wrapped around Vasquez’s slender neck, left fist pressed tightly against the soft underside of her jaw.
“You’re dead, Bodycount.”
“With all do respect, Commander… We’re both dead…” Vasquez hissed. He could feel the sharp blade of a knife tapping against his groin, just above his femoral artery.
“Fuck! Well done, Vasquez.”

It had been their last session in training. They would all get one weeks vacation. Not that any of them could leave from the base, but there would be no training. No early wake-up calls, no rushing to breakfast after inhumane obstacle course.

“Commander Wolverine! Sir!” He turned to look. Vasquez had been the last to leave from the training facility. She was running towards him. He stopped to wait.
“Considering that you just killed me, I think you can call me Logan. At least outside of training,” he smiled. He actually liked Vasquez. Rest of the morons in his team he had to tolerate, but she was different.
“Sir, Logan, sir! I came to ask if you could grant me a permission to leave the base, sir!” Logan cringed.
“No need to shout. I’m not deaf. And no. You know I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Stop fucking shouting, Vasquez! And it’s Logan. Not sir or Commander.”
“I need to get laid.”
“Well, what’s your fucking problem? The base is full of men. Pick the one you like.”
“That’s the problem. I already have somebody. But he’s not in the base,” Vasquez explained. Logan couldn’t believe he was having this conversation.
“Tough luck. I can’t give you my permission,” he huffed. Vasquez hung her head and turned to leave.
“But I can’t keep my eyes on you. I need to get laid myself,” he continued. Vasquez smirked knowingly.
“Just remember that I didn’t train pussies who get caught sneaking out from the base. Trip the alarms and I will personally beat the shit out of you.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“And stop fucking shouting.”

“How was your day?” Marie asked when he finally got back home.
“I need a cookie. Remind me that I pack enough body bags for the whole team before we leave, okay?” He huffed, slumping on a chair and letting his head droop against the table.
“That bad?” Marie asked with worried tone.
“Worse. Vasquez better charge her batteries before we leave. We’re going to need her.”
“Vasquez?” Logan rarely spoke about his team members.
“She’s a mutant. Can re-animate dead tissues. Don’t know if she can actually bring people back when they’re dead, but she can make corpses move and fight. She’s our mechanic.” A plate landed in front of him, filled with freshly baked cookies. He grabbed Marie before she had the chance to return to stir the cookie dough she was working on.
“Logan!”
“On the other hand… Why would I settle for measly cookies when I can have the whole bakery and the cook?” He purred, nuzzling his face against her stomach.

Ever since Logan had accepted Wolverine as a part of himself, he had been more relaxed and balanced. At first she had had her doubts, but when there had been no signs of the Destroyer taking over completely she had let go of her suspicions. Who was she to complain when one of the side effects had been Logan’s increased sex-drive?

She could only whimper when Logan tore open her blouse and yanked off her bra, latching on to her nipples like he was starving, suckling, licking and nibbling. His hands were everywhere at once, opening buttons and tearing off her clothes, revealing more and more skin. His mouth followed the path his fingers mapped; planting frantic kisses and nibbles to every exposed inch of her.

She lay on the bed, her whole body still tingling, muscles lax and heavy. Within week Logan would be leaving. She didn’t know exactly where, or when he would return. If he would return. She pushed the thought back as soon as it threatened to surface. She had promised to Logan and more importantly she had promised to herself that she would trust him enough to believe him when he said that he would come back.

“Ariadne thinks we’re making some progress,” she said, curling on her side, her palm landing on Logan’s chest.
“Really? That’s… That’s good to hear.”
“She had this theory that she wanted to test out with me.”
“Uh-huh?”
“I… I told her about earlier times. The times when the mist triggered. She thought she could create a scenario to see if she could pinpoint the exact moment when it starts working.”
“A scenario?” Logan asked, suddenly tense.
“In the training facility. All supporting structures in there are made out of adamantium. Holo devices are surrounded with it.”
“What kind of scenario?” Logan asked.
“I don’t know. She’s probably trying to scare me to trigger the mist,” she said. Logan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him.
“I don’t like it. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Logan!”
“No. Let me finish. I don’t like it; I don’t like the idea of you being scared. It’s my fucking duty, my responsibility to make sure that you don’t have to be scared. Remember? You’ll stick with me, talk with me…”
“And you keep me well and safe.”
“Exactly. You do what you have to do; I have no right to stop you. But I want you to know that what ever you do, you do it for yourself. You don’t have to do anything because of me, or because of the Army. Remember that.”

They lay there for a long moment, both just breathing and enjoying the closeness before she spoke again.
“I started practicing as much because of us as I started because of me. I can’t keep hiding behind your back every time something happens. I’m big enough girl to take care of myself.” Logan chuckled quietly, noise vibrating through his chest and making her cheek tingle.
“I know you’re a big girl… It’s just… I guess I’m just an old fashioned asshole, but I kind of like it when you hide behind my back. Now, I’m not bragging, but there are worse places to hide…”
“I don’t think you’re an asshole. I think you’re kind of cute when you talk like that.”
“Kind of cute?” Logan’s left eyebrow shot up.
“Cute as a cookie.”
“Cookie? You know… I have gutted men for far less…”
“Cute as a chocolate chip cookie… With big bits of chocolate I get to lick off…” She whispered, trailing his collarbone with her tongue. Logan gasped and grabbed her, rolling around so that he ended on top of her, between her thighs.
“That’s more like it. I could live with that…”
“Oh, no. Not like this… Not now…” She hissed, flipping them over again, ending straddling Logan. His eyes narrowed momentarily, then he relaxed.
“Okay… You’re the boss. Do your worse.”

She could feel his cock twitching against her already slick crevice. It would have taken only a small nudge and she could have gotten it inside of her, but she wanted to play a little. She wanted to hear him beg before she gave in. Logan’s eyes twinkled knowingly when she leaned forward to nibble his throat. It wasn’t often when he was willing to surrender, but there were times when it paid off.

Air was still thick from their combined scents, musk and sweat from their earlier lovemaking, vanilla, honey, peppermint, pine, everything she had learned to combine with Logan and herself. Logan’s breath came erratic, he was breathing with small gasps and moans when she explored his body with her hands and mouth, giving extra attention to areas she knew were the most sensitive. Hollow of his throat, his pectorals and small patch just below his navel.

He was already squirming and practically pleading for mercy when she scraped her nails lightly over his forearms.
“Oh, shit… Marie…” She licked the thin red lines her nails had left on his skin.
“You do still want me to fuck you, right?” Logan panted, grasping the sheets, his knuckles shining white as a bone. She leaned back, rolling her hips, moaning when his cock bumped against her clitoris. Incoherent murmur, something that sounded a lot like a prayer escaped from Logan’s lips accompanied by string of curses when she rode on top of him slowly, always moving fast enough not to let him slide in. She wasn’t sure of how much longer she could keep going like that, but she hadn’t heard what she wanted, what she needed to hear yet.

Suddenly Logan’s hands clamped tightly around her hips and his lips retreated to grimace. Yellow, almost golden flecks danced in his irises, mingling with the hazel when he locked his gaze to her eyes.
“For fuck’s sake, just fuck me already!”

She lifted her hips slightly and let his throbbing cock sink in. She was sure that later she would find bruises from where Logan’s fingers were attached to her thighs and hips, but right now she found it impossible to care. His cock was rubbing from all the right places, stretching her almost uncomfortably.
“Wait… Honey, wait…” Logan whispered, pulling her closer, anchoring his left hand against her lower back and flipping them over, pulling her under him.

“Enough of these games… Just let me love you…” He murmured, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face against the side of her neck.
“I may be old… I may be an asshole… But I want to hold you and take care of you as long as I can…”

She woke up early. Despite that she had agreed with Ariadne that it was better to postpone the test until Logan left she couldn’t just sit still. At the farm she had gotten used to hard work. Nothing came free, everything she had had she had had to work for. Now here at the base life was considerable easier. If she needed something she could walk to one of the storage facilities and buy it, or if it was something they didn’t have, the small marketplace just outside of the gates of the base was more than well stocked with everything and anything imaginable from hand-woven carpets to exotic herbs. They had running water and electricity. It had taken them both some time to adjust to all the luxuries most occupants of the base seemed to take granted.

She hadn’t gotten permission to make a small vegetable garden to the backyard as she had hoped for. That would have kept her busy, but some stupid regulations and rules dating back to times when getting enough clean water for everybody in the base had been an issue prevented it. When there had been very little else to do she had taken on jogging early in the mornings when majority of the people were still asleep.

Ariadne had thought it was a great idea. She’d balked the comfortable and lazy lifestyle most of the unemployed wives and husbands of the soldiers had adopted.
“They don’t have to go to battle, but that doesn’t mean that they should just sit on their asses getting fat and stupid…” Woman had muttered.

Roads were quiet and empty. Sound of her footsteps echoed from the buildings surrounding her, and her feet raised small clouds of dust when they hit the ground. For the hundredth time she started thinking how easy it would be to turn the rather inhospitable environment more comfortable and inviting with simply planting some dry resistant flowers and bushes here and there. Again one thing that was denied. Grounds were kept clean and bare. Buildings were simple and functional. Roads straight and wide. They fought for the free earth, but god forbid if even one free and wild weed dared to make a nest…

She had to stop when sudden fit of giggles struck. She could see it so clearly. Logan standing, towering over hapless patch of greenery, growling angrily and demanding it to retreat immediately because he wasn’t going to take shit from some fucking weed.

Except it wouldn’t be a weed. She didn’t have any idea of what the enemy looked like. She had heard rumors, of course. Who wouldn’t? Most soldiers coming back from the front kept telling tall tales of their adversaries. Green lizard-like creatures that moved slowly and sluggishly, all you had to do was to stay out of their reach and keep shooting, and they fell to neat piles. But that couldn’t be the whole truth. War would have been over in mere months if that were the case. There had to be something more behind those fables.

Urge to giggle was gone. She needed to get back home. Back to Logan. She started running again, her feet pounding the ground at punishing pace. What the hell was she thinking, getting out of the house alone when within a week he’d be gone and there was no telling if he was going to return ever?

He had woken up partially when Marie left. Laid half in slumber, listening her humming and rummaging through closets, pulling on clothes and shoes. He couldn’t muster up enough energy to get up and go with her. It was too early, bed was too warm and soft, and her scent and warmth still cling to the pillow and the quilt they shared. He grasped her pillow and buried his face to it, letting last night’s scents fill his nostrils. A week, and he’d be waking up to entirely different cocktail of odors. He was going to enjoy this luxury while it lasted.

He was drifting on that hazy middle ground between dream and reality when there was a knock on the door. He sat up rubbing his face groggily. Had Marie forgotten her keys? Another knock made him swung his feet to the floor and find his jeans. Just in case it wasn’t Marie hot for some morning action.
“Coming, coming! Keep your fucking pants on…” He muttered when yet another series of hard raps came from the door. Couldn’t be Marie. She’d known to stop after the first knock. He opened the door. It wasn’t Marie.

“Vasquez?” Woman swayed on her feet, barely keeping her balance.
“You can beat me up later… I need help…” Her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell. Logan managed to catch her before she fell to the ground and hurt herself.

“Come on, Bodycount. On your feet, bitch!” He growled, trying to support her limp form. Vasquez made an honest effort, but her knees buckled and she could only hang from his shoulder. There were no outward signs of violence, no bruises or other injuries. Her skin was hot and dry, and he could smell something sickly sweet and slightly dizzying in her labored breath. He closed the door and dragged her in to the kitchen, lowering her carefully on to a chair. He crouched in front of her.
“Vasquez, open your eyes.” She just sat there, her head lolling against her chest, small dribble of drool dripping down her chin.
“Vasquez. Open your fucking eyes. That’s a fucking order, soldier, open your fucking eyes, now!”

Vasquez’s head snapped up and her blurry gaze fixed to his eyes.
“Sir, fuck you, sir!”
“That’s the spirit. What have you taken?” Again Vasquez slumped, returning to muttering and drooling.
“Shit.” This was getting them absolutely nowhere. Logan grabbed a firm hold from her short-cropped black hair and yanked her head upwards.
“What have you taken?” It was no secret that different drugs were easily available if you knew where to look. Though he had never pegged Vasquez as a narc.
“Nothing… Poisoned me…”
“Poisoned?”
“Temporary cure… Was going to get married… Didn’t work…”
“I fucking thought you were smarter than this…” Logan huffed.

“Christ, you’re hot. Let’s get out of those clothes…” Marie heard Logan’s voice from the bathroom when she entered to the kitchen, still out of breath from her desperate sprint back home.

“Come on, Vasquez!” Vasquez? What the hell was going on in there? She held her breath and crept closer. She really didn’t want to jump in to conclusions, but what was she supposed to think when she could hear Logan out of breath, and woman moaning in there? She could hear low, feminine voice whispering something, and Logan snorting.

She pushed the door open. Logan was standing in the shower, his arms draped around short, muscular woman. Woman was completely naked. Logan was wearing his jeans and nothing else. Both were shivering and panting. Woman was writhing and moaning, struggling against Logan’s firm hold from around her. His one hand was wrapped around her narrow waist; other held her chin up and her head against his chest from under her jaw.

“There’s a small box under the bed. Go and get it for me,” Logan hissed, then cursed when woman nearly managed to squirm loose from his hold. She fetched the box.
“Open it. There’s a syringe. Give it to me,” Logan grunted. Woman renewed her struggling from the word ‘syringe’, kicking and scratching Logan.
“Calm the fuck down, Vasquez! I don’t want to hurt you!” Logan growled, letting out a small pained gasp when woman’s teeth sunk in to his arm, just above his wrist.
“Oh, fucking… Shit…” His claws and the barrels of the lasers tore forth, rendering his hands useless, and woman fell to the floor. She crawled past Marie on her hands and knees, out from the bathroom, still shivering and gasping for air. She could feel icy cold droplets of water splashing from the woman on her feet.
“Don’t let her get away!” Logan shouted, barreling after the woman.

Woman had gotten as far as to the kitchen before Logan had caught her. She was spitting, kicking and screaming on the floor. Logan was straddling her waist, again unarmed, one strong hand braced against her chest just between her breasts to keep her still.
“Give me that syringe, Marie!” She handed the small syringe to him. Logan took it and plunged it deep in to the woman’s bicep emptying it.

It was as if all the life and fight had been suddenly drained out from the woman. She fell completely limp, letting out an agonized wail and started sobbing.
“Of all the stupid stunts… You fucking knew how much I need you. You knew and yet you pull up shit like this… Get a fucking grip, Vasquez!” Logan spat, his nose only inches from the woman’s face before he stood up and let her go.
“Take her back to the shower. She needs to stay cool until that shit wears off. I need to… I fucking need to get out of here before I gut that fucking bitch…”

So. This was Vasquez. She approached the woman carefully, remembering at the last possible moment to retrieve her gloves and a long sleeved shirt to protect her from her bare skin.
“Hss… It’s alright… I’m going to help you…” She murmured. Vasquez didn’t seem to understand or even care about the words she was whispering. Woman had retreated in to her own mind, somewhere far away, and let Marie jostle her back in to bathroom, under cold water.

She would have wanted to go after Logan and ask what this all had been about, but she couldn’t leave Vasquez alone. She’d probably fall down and drown if Marie let go of her now. So she sat next to the woman on the floor. Endured the freezing water, holding Vasquez against her and rocking gently back and forth.

She wasn’t sure of how long they sat there, cold water cascading over them. Long enough for Vasquez to stop shivering. Long enough for Marie to start shivering. Long enough for Vasquez to start talking with hushed, low tone that reminded a lot like Logan’s.
“We were supposed to get married before I leave… Paid a small fortune for the cure…” Vasquez whispered her hands curled around her knees. Marie kept her arm around her shoulders, but turned off the shower and rubbed her reassuringly.
“Didn’t work… I know I shouldn’t have come here… Couldn’t think up anybody else,” Vasquez muttered, staring numbly at the tiled floor.
“It’s okay. Are you better now?” Marie asked.
“Yeah. In fact… I better leave before Lo… Commander gets back,” woman said, scrambling up from the floor with shaky feet.
“You’re in no condition to go anywhere on your own. Come on. We’ll get you some clothes and I’ll make us some breakfast,” Marie said sternly, helping Vasquez to the bedroom.
“It really isn’t necessary, and I don’t think commander…”
“Fuck the Commander! I happen to know that Logan will want to know how you’re feeling as soon as he calms down a bit. Here. Put these on and come in to the kitchen,” Marie huffed, gave Vasquez shirt and trousers that she thought would fit and left her to get dressed.

“What was in this?” Marie wondered out loud, picking up the used syringe.
“I don’t have a clue. But what ever it was, it worked. Cleared that shit off from my system. Uh… You wouldn’t happen to have a belt?” Vasquez stood in the doorway. Shirt Marie had given sat on her shoulders snugly like a second skin, revealing impressive musculature structure. Trousers rode low on her narrow hips, nearly falling off.
“Little cocktail I had tailored for myself. I’m glad it worked. Now, get the fuck out of my face, Bodycount. And remember… Pull this shit again and I won’t let you off the hook this easily,” Logan growled from the door. Vasquez nodded and hurried past him, then turned.
“Thanks. Thanks for everything…”
“Save it. Next time I’ll wring your neck,” Logan snapped, slamming the door shut. He waited for a moment, listening.

“Jesus…” He sat heavily, hiding his face behind his palms. His wet jeans squeaked against the chair. He was shivering.
“And what the hell was that?” Marie asked.
“That was Vasquez. Nearly ruining the whole fucking mission.”
“No. I meant you. She could barely walk and you threw her out just like that!”
“I fucking had to! She has to be back at the barracks before the name call or we’re both screwed! I gave her my permission to sneak out of the base last night, and it’s my ass on the line if anybody catches her!”

“What was in that syringe?” Marie asked.
“My fucking life insurance. I heard that those aliens use some kind of toxins. Borrowed some things from Jeffries after he left. I was going to take it with me when we leave. I don’t trust to the shit they pack in those medi-kits. Hasn’t worked on me before, why would it work now?”
“How did you know it would work on Vasquez?”
“I didn’t. But she was toast anyway. That thing they call ‘the cure’… God only knows what’s in it. Figured that if I was going to trust my life on to something, might as well test it out first…”

She started to prepare the breakfast. It was still hard to understand how Logan could be so hard, and downright cruel towards the people he was supposed to work with, but in the end it wasn’t her business. And in all fairness he had done this before.

“Go and put on something warm.” Logan nodded, but just sat there, his teeth still chattering.
“I could have fucking killed her.”
“Yes. You made it perfectly clear already.” She didn’t want to continue this conversation.
“No, you don’t understand… I really could have fucking killed her. I did that cocktail for me. Even if it had been working properly, it could have fucking killed her. It’s too strong for other people undiluted. At least I think so. I just randomly mixed some anti-toxins and purifying agents. Strongest stuff I could find.”
“Then what the hell were you thinking while squirting it in to her?” Marie’s anger flared.
”I did what felt the right thing to do. Had to do something to keep her going. Had to keep her functioning long enough for the Mechanics to find us.”
“Just listen to yourself! Logan! There are no Mechanics! There are no Messengers! People don’t hate mutants! There are no Destroyers! That War is over!”
“Don’t you think I fucking know that? I know that! I! But it looks like not all parts of me agree with that!”
“Don’t you start with that whining again! I’m sick and tired of it!”
“Fine. I won’t.”

Logan stood up and stomped outside, still wearing his wet jeans and nothing more. He had left a puddle of water to where he sat, and wet footprints announced the path he had taken through their house.
“Shit.” The last thing she wanted to do on his last week at the base was to fight. Breakfast forgotten she charged after Logan, hoping she would catch him before he wandered to an area where she wasn’t allowed to follow.

She didn’t have to run far. Logan was sitting on the porch, angry and tired scowl on his face.
“Came to shout some more?” He asked, not turning his gaze from the ground.
“No. I came to apologize.”
“Why?” Logan asked, picking up a small pebble, weighing it on his palm.
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I don’t want to fight with you either. But why apologize? You should do that more often.”
“What?”
“What you did back there. Stopped me. I don’t have to like it. I may walk off to cool down. But at least somebody has the guts to kick my ass back in gear if I start whining,” Logan spoke with a clipped tone, throwing the pebble away.
“I didn’t mean it like that…”
“Don’t start backing out now. Is there something else? Something more you want to get off from your chest?”
“You’re freaking me out. What is this shit? I just apologized, what more do you want?” Marie asked.
“I want us to get things clear between us. All things. I know I promised that I would return. I will do everything in my power to make sure that I get back to you. But there’s always the possibility that I won’t come back. I don’t want to leave any loose ends.”
“Isn’t it your turn, then?” Marie asked.
“My turn?”
“I already told you what annoys me. It’s your turn.”
“Well, there is this one thing… Shit. Just forget it,” Logan muttered, stood up and stomped back in. She followed him.

“What one thing? God damned, Logan! Talk to me!”
“No. It’s not fair…”
“I’ll tell you what’s not fair! First you make these big speeches about how we should clear the air, but then when it’s your turn you clamp up! It’s not fair that I have to share every fucking piece of information when you’re only handing out tidbits every now and then!”
“Fair? Okay. You say you trust me, and that’s a big fucking fat lie!”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I trust you with my fucking life, and you should know that!”
“Doesn’t look like that from where I’m standing. You still think that I could hurt you,” Logan huffed, marching in to the bedroom, stripping off his soaked jeans as he went.
“What? I don’t think you’d hurt me…”
“Then why the hell you freeze and play dead every fucking time I try to fuck you from behind?”

“I don’t offer enough variety between the sheets? Maybe you should go and find somebody who does if it’s such a big issue to you!” Marie shouted. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“No, I don’t have to go looking for something that I get more than enough at home! This isn’t about fucking sex, Marie! This is about how you lie to me on daily basis! Okay, you have some issues when it comes to trusting me, but at least be honest about it and say it straight at my face!”

“Fine! I don’t trust you! Happy?” She lunged forward and threw the words at him as if they were weapons. Logan flinched, but stood tall, keeping his gaze locked to her eyes.
“Better. Is there anything I can do? Anything that would make you trust me again?” He asked, keeping his voice down. Reigning his temper. She shook her head. No. There was absolutely nothing her could do.
“Is it because of something I have said or done?” He asked, tone of his voice gearing towards conversational level.
“It’s not something. It’s everything. One minute you’re acting all cuddly and telling me how much you love me, and the next moment you’re threatening to maim the whole world!”
“And…” Logan stared at her, clearly at loss.
“How can I be sure that one day it isn’t the other way around? That it isn’t me in the receiving end when you snap?” She asked.
“If you’re so fucking afraid of me why the hell are you still tagging along? What’s stopping you from leaving? Huh? Sure as hell can’t be my pleasant personality!” Logan growled and yanked fresh pair of jeans from the closet.

He dressed up quickly, not waiting for Marie to find an answer. This conversation had gone too far already. He had already been wound up from the mess with Vasquez, itching for a fight. Wrong time to start talking about anything and everything that was wrong between him and Marie. He was about to walk out to sort out his head, but changed his mind. He had done it every time in the past, and end result had always remained the same. They had swept all the crap under the carpet, and if he was completely honest, there was no room anymore. It was bursting from the seams already.

“Actually, don’t answer to that last question. Not yet. We both need to calm down a bit before we continue.”
“Calm down? I’m supposed to calm down after that?” She was practically steaming.
“Yeah. You have to,” Logan said, reaching towards her, grazing her temple with his index finger and grimacing from the contact. She was sweating slightly. Small, blue droplets that slowly ate away skin from the pad of his finger before his healing kicked in.
“I… I think I’ll go and take a shower…”

From her earlier experience she had learned that she could somewhat control the mist when it broke through. Keeping her skin wet prevented the mist from spreading, and diluted it. There were small holes in her shirt and trousers already. Nothing earth shattering. No need to throw the clothes away, she could fix them. All she had to do was to wash them properly, and she could fix them. Logan was completely another matter. There was nothing that could fix him if the mist accidentally triggered when she was near him.

Sudden bout of nausea gripped her stomach, bitter bile rising to the back of her throat. She suppressed the reaction. There was nothing to throw up, she hadn’t eaten her breakfast yet, and she would just end up cramping on the floor, and that would bring Logan in to the bathroom, worried out of his wits and fussing all over like a mother hen. She couldn’t take that now. Not after everything they had said to each other.

It wasn’t like he acted threateningly towards her. He didn’t. On the contrary, he seemed to fight tooth and nail for the control of his emotions when it came to her. Kept everything except his love towards her tightly clamped down up until now. That was the main reason for her mistrust towards him. One day his love wouldn’t be enough when his temper got the better out of him if he kept stacking up every negative feeling behind a barrier.

He kept asking her to trust him even when he couldn’t trust her to stay with him through petty arguments.

Scent of coffee and pancakes wafted from the kitchen when she finally felt good enough to step off from the shower. She put on a bathrobe and followed the scent, sitting and digging in to a plate of pancakes Logan shoved in front of her. She ate mechanically, not even tasting what she put in her mouth. She didn’t want to eat, but her body needed the fuel. She resisted the urge to leave when Logan sat opposite her and started eating.

They ate in silence. To casual observer it would have been appeared to be a completely normal breakfast, but he had to fight to get each and every mouthful down. Temptation to back off, to take back every word he had said weighed on his shoulders. It would have been easy. Just to apologize and tell her that he’d been wrong.

He put his fork down and opened his mouth to say the words when angry flash from her eyes stilled him.
“Don’t you dare to apologize. You started this. We’ll talk this through even if it killed both of us…” She growled.
“That’s the thing… I… We started this at the wrong moment. I was already looking for a fight. I don’t want to throw away everything we have just because I made a mistake.”
“You can’t hog all the blame to yourself. You don’t have to. I don’t want you to blame yourself on everything. It’s not normal. It’s not healthy.”
“But I know that I was being an asshole…”
“Just shut it and listen. You keep taking the blame every time something goes wrong. Even if it’s something that’s my fault you find a way to turn it look like it’s yours. It’s not good for you. It’s not good for us. I’m afraid that one day you’re going to look back and realize that life would be much more easier and simpler if it were just you, by yourself.”
“Simpler? Easier? Marie…”
“I don’t want to wake up one fine morning only to found out that you hate me. I don’t want to keep guessing whether today is the day you finally get enough and skewer me.”
“Hating you? Skewer… Marie! Stop!”

“Listen to yourself for a while. Skewer you? It would be easier for me to gut myself than even cut a fucking hair from your head. You’re probably the only reason I’m still sane, let alone alive. Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to know that you think that I could harm you?” He spoke with a hushed tone, forced words out from his throat that felt awfully dry and raspy. His eyes were itching, like he had gotten sand in there.
“But if you really think that way, maybe it’s better if I move in to barracks. Give you some space. I’ll be leaving soon, anyway…” His chest hurt. Every word sliced through him like a dagger. But if it were what she wanted, what she needed, he’d do it.
“And… I don’t have to come back. I was coming back for you, but if it’s easier for you without me… Of course it is, what the fuck am I rambling… You don’t have to be afraid of me anymore. I don’t have to come back if you don’t want me to.”

It was impossible to continue eating. He shoved the plate away. It fell to the floor, splattering pancakes and shards of ceramic everywhere. Marie just sat there, staring at him with a blank look on her face.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said that I wouldn’t come back if that’s what you want. I’ll… I’ll find a way to disappear. This house is yours; I’ll make sure that they don’t throw you out. Or you can go back to the farm. Live with Sam. Or…”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“Or you could buy an apartment from the settlement. I have… I have some money stashed away, I think… I think it will be enough if… If…” He stood up and started pacing. He couldn’t look at her anymore.
“Logan, I don’t want you to go.”
“And if you want to stay here, I’m sure that… I’m sure that they can find something for you to do…” He clamped a palm over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. His heart was working on overtime, pounding at his temples. There was something wet flowing down his cheeks.
“Logan! Look at me!”
“No.”
“Logan!”
“No. I’ll go and pack my things. I’ll be out of here soon. Don’t worry…” He fumbled his way out of the kitchen blindly. He couldn’t look at her. If he was ever going to leave from here, he had to do it now.

He was pulling out his shirts from the closet and throwing them in to a battered backpack when Marie barged in, taking the shirts from him and throwing them back in to the closet and slamming the door shut.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“But Marie, I…”

She did the only thing that came in to her mind that would stop him. She grabbed him, pushed him against the wall and took his lips to a hard, almost punishing kiss, sucking, nibbling and biting his lower lip until she could taste the blood.
“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I thought… I thought you were afraid of me…” He murmured against her lips, too baffled to answer to her greedy kisses. He didn’t know what to do with his hands before she grabbed his wrists and brought his palms over her hips.
“Screw the fear… Screw everything… I refuse to give you up just because we’re both cowards…” She kept kissing and nibbling him, letting her mouth wander along the line of his stubbled jaw, down to his throat. Trailed his jugular with her tongue, tasting his anguish and uncertainty.
“You don’t have to… Don’t. Marie, don’t. Stop… Stop that!”

Logan struggled loose from her grasp, pushed her to the bed and eyed her, suspicious gleam in his eyes.
“What kind of a fucking game you’re playing? First you say that you’re afraid of me, and in the next minute you’re all over me! Stop fucking with my head, Marie! I’m messed up enough as it is!”
“I don’t want you to go! I want you! I need you!”
“I don’t want to go! But I don’t want to stay if it means that you’re going to live in fear, you deserve more than that!”

He opened the closet again. Marie flew from the bed. Instead of closing the door she delved in to the closet and came out with armful of her clothes.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Logan asked.
“You promised you’d take care of me. Hell of a lot easier for you to keep that promise if I’m with you… Logan!” Shirts and trousers went flying all around the room. She was trapped between Logan and the closet, her head bumping uncomfortably against sharp edges of the shelves, Logan’s hands wrapped tightly around her and his mouth plundering hers.

He felt dizzy. Everything except Marie, taste and feel of her, was blurred. He couldn’t get close enough, he couldn’t get her close enough, and he started to fear that he’d break her if he squeezed any harder. He didn’t want to let go of her. He didn’t want to leave. She was his life.

“You want me to stay?” He murmured, voice still hoarse from earlier shouting.
“I want you to stay… I want you to start trusting me… I want to trust you…” She spoke hastily between kisses, practically devouring his mouth, her hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, fingers finally grasping firm hold from his wild hair in a desperate attempt to pull him even closer.
“A new deal? I trust you, you trust me…” He whispered, his shaky hands already tearing off their clothes.
“Yes… I like the sound of that deal… Oh…” He latched his mouth around her bare nipple. And now the shelves behind her back were really becoming an issue, digging in to her flesh quite painfully.
“Logan?” She tugged his hair, lifting his head from her chest.
“Yeah?”
“Take me to bed. This closet’s killing me.”
“Well, we can’t have that…”

He twirled them around and laid her on the bed. Then rearranged her bathrobe. Tying the sash again, covering her nude body.
“And I can’t have you. Not yet. This has been a shitty morning for both of us. I’ll go for a walk. You do what you want to do.”
“Huh?”
“I need to clear my head. I want to fuck you because I love you, not because I need to make sure that you stay with me.”
“Asshole…” She muttered quietly when Logan left. She could hear him chuckling in the kitchen.
“I heard that. Love you, too, honey! See you later!”

“Jesus…” He wriggled a bit to get every bit of him to a more comfortable position in jeans that felt absolutely too tight and small. Put on his boots and stepped outside.

His every instinct had been screaming to turn her over and take her hard and fast, claim her back. Show her who was the alpha. And that wasn’t how he wanted things to be between them. Having sex with her wasn’t supposed to be about dominance and power.

The base was waking up around him. Men and women in uniforms were stepping out of buildings, getting ready for the coming day. He spotted Anderson and Vasquez in the growing crowd, walking slowly towards the mess. Vasquez looked still shaken, leaning heavily against her teammate. Anderson didn’t seem to mind. Tall and well built, as dumb as it gets, but good man to have in the team when you needed the extra muscle. And completely under Vasquez’s thumb.
“Poor bastard… But then again, who the fuck am I to talk…”

He wandered around aimlessly. There was nowhere to go and nothing to do. Except to go back to home as soon as he was sure he could face Marie without throwing her down and fucking her to next week. No. Hard and nasty wouldn’t do now.

He ended up spending most of the day outside, just walking around, and unwinding from their earlier fight. She’d be there when he got back home. Or if she wasn’t she’d come back later. He picked his lunch from the mess instead of going back home. She spotted Marie from the distance few times, going on about her business, and waved at her. She waved back, huge smile plastered over her face.

Sun was already setting when he returned to home, tired to the bone, but first time in weeks relaxed. He kicked off his boots and breathed in deeply, gathering their combined scents floating in the house. Clock on the kitchen wall was ticking, and he could hear Marie breathing in the bedroom. She was already sleeping.

He ate sandwiches he found from the fridge, and flushed them down with some coffee from the thermos. Starting from this evening he was going to spend the rest of the week with Marie. No war. No recruits. No responsibilities. No hesitations and fears. Just him and Marie.

He stripped off his clothes in the kitchen, then snuck quietly past sleeping Marie to the bathroom to wash off the dirt and dust that had gathered on him during the day.

Water was lukewarm. There really was no need to heat it in the middle of the desert. You got cold and lukewarm to balance out often inhumane, scorching heat of the sun.

He stretched and lathered himself with rather generous amount of soap. Again one of the small luxuries. Real soap. Marie had used the soap bar earlier, her scent was still on it, faint but traceable. He rubbed it in, covered his whole body with frothy suds. It felt almost an offence to rinse it off.

He toweled himself dry and patted in to the bedroom. Marie was still sleeping, on her stomach on top of the covers. Last rays of the sun made her skin glow warmly. He discarded the towel and crawled next to her, nuzzling his face against her side, taking in her scent, enjoying the soft texture of her skin under his lips. She murmured in her sleep and curled on her side, turning her back at him. He traced her vertebra with his tongue, landing soft kisses to scars adorning her back. She moaned and wriggled again, on her back this time. He continued his explorations, licking her left nipple; moisturizing it and then blowing against it, making it turn in to a taut pebble. She gasped and arched her back.
“It better be you, Logan…”

He could smell her sleepy arousal when she moved again, turning on her side, scooting her back against his chest.
“I’m kind of tired… It has been a long day…” She muttered, rubbing her buttocks against his growing erection. He chuckled, peppering her neck and shoulders with small kisses.
“Trying to give me blue balls?” He whispered, his lips grazing her earlobe.
“I have a feeling that I don’t even have to try to make it work…” He heard her answering. She wasn’t as sleepy as she pretended to be, he could hear definite smirk in her voice.
“No. You won’t… But are you sure you want to?” He asked, thrusting lightly against her lower back. She grasped his arm and brought his palm over her ribcage to cup her breast.
“Hmmm… It would be a shame to waste such fine specimen of… Of… Oh…”

He scooted lower on the bed and pushed his cock between her thighs, letting it slide over her already slick and wet crevice, nudging her clitoris. Gauging her reactions.
“Is this okay?” He asked, wrapping one arm more firmly around her, nudging the other under her neck, efficiently anchoring her against him. She brought one hand up, grasping his hair and pulling his head forward, reaching little awkwardly to kiss him.
“Better than okay…”

They ground against each other lazily, their hips never parting. He could feel her getting wetter every passing moment, and it was absolute torture not to plunge in, but he held back. It was good, and it was only going to get better if they waited. Her hand clasped his thigh, nails digging in every time he bumped against her clit. He peeled her fingers off when he could smell the blood. She grasped his palm instead, squeezing with all her worth, her breath escaping with small uttered curses and hisses.
“Christ… Just fuck me, Logan… Please…”

She needed more. Her abdomen was on fire, and Logan kept denying her the only thing that would have banked those flames, teasing her with his rock hard cock. She could feel his pre-cum covering her crevice, mixing with her own arousal, sliding inside of her and creating delicious, tingling sensation, but she needed more. She needed all of him inside of her. And no matter how hard she tried; he managed to slide free from her traps, just barely entering before returning to torment her overly sensitive clitoris.

She was going insane. She was going to turn to a babbling, incoherent idiot soon. His fingers were squeezing and tugging her nipples, making her arch against him and moan, and he kept nibbling and licking the side of her throat and her neck, murmuring small encouraging whispers which made her insides quiver and melt. She was ready to explode. She wanted to grab him and take him, but she had no strength left.

Then she felt it. His cock, slowly sliding in, filling the aching void.
“I love you, Marie…” She was already beyond caring, her muscles clenching greedily around his shaft, pulling him deeper when she came apart, wrapped tightly in his embrace.

Week passed slowly. In many ways too slowly, but even more ways too fast.

Suddenly she realized when cuddling next to Logan under sheets, that this would be their last night together before he left. Tomorrow morning he would step on the lorry of a truck with his team. She tried to push back tears that started gathering, but it was a futile attempt.

“What’s the matter?” Logan gathered her against his side, squeezing gently, rubbing her arm.
“Nothing…” She tried to keep it back, choke back sobs.
“It’s just this one mission. Recon, they said in the briefing this morning. I’ll be back before you even notice I was gone.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. First priority was to gather intel about new weapon Greenies were developing. Destroying the base where research and development was carried on came second. As did the fact that he would be the only one actually entering to the base to plant the explosives when rest of the team stayed waiting, guarding the perimeter. He was fairly confident that he’d be able to take on few Greenies, what ever the hell they were, on his own without any problems. Team was there only to ensure that none of those green bastards got away.

Not a complete lie, so he was able to lift her chin and look her in the eyes.
“I want you to stop worrying. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s quite impossible to get rid of me. I’m coming back.” She let out a watery chuckle, remembering how Logan had stomped his way back in to her life, practically forcing her to take him back. That was then. This was now. She would have given anything to keep him where he belonged, at her side.
“I want you to stay home tomorrow until the convoy leaves.”
“But…”
“Can’t go ruining my bad-ass reputation by sobbing like a schoolboy in front of the whole fucking team.”
“Sobbing? Logan…”
“Yeah. Sobbing. I have already gotten used to get laid at least twice a day. Imagine the hell I’ll be going through when you’re not there.”

She couldn’t help it. Despite the fact that Logan really was leaving, fit of giggles erupted from her from the mental image that came to her from his words.
“You’re an ass! I’m supposed to be all heartbroken and now I keep seeing you standing there in that cute little uniform, sporting a tent that would house your entire team!” Along with giggles tears kept flowing.
“The whole team? I don’t know if I should be flattered, or more worried about you. It’s not that big.”
“I must be hearing things.”
“Well, it’s bigger than… Shit. We’re really not going to spend all night discussing how big my cock is.”
“Why not? It’s an interesting topic. Maybe you could show it to me, I seem to suffer momentarily amnesia, can’t quite remember…”
“Cut the crap Marie. Let’s fuck.”
“Do let’s.”

Despite the harsh approach they joined slowly, almost sleepily. Afterwards they just lay there several moments, Logan on top of her, his cock softening inside of her, easing out on its own. She was already falling asleep when he rolled off from her.
“I… I’ll go now. See you when I get back…”

She curled on her side. He was going to spend the night roaming around the base. She understood the need to do so. In here, with her, he was just Logan. And Logan wouldn’t get through. Logan couldn’t cope with what they’d be facing.

When he had finally submitted and allowed Wolverine to merge with him the beast had gotten lost in the process. It was there; she could see glimpses of it every day. Certain way Logan spoke. Words he used. The way he moved. But he needed more than just mannerisms and hazy memories. He needed to find the Destroyer again.

She was slumbering when she felt him brushing a soft kiss against her forehead. She could hear the soft creak of the leather of his boots. Rustle of cloth. Small buckles and straps clinking and rattling, then he was gone.

Waking up alone in the morning felt strange. Often times Logan had woken up long before her and left to work, so empty house wasn’t then think making her feel weird. No. It was the cold hard fact that at the end of the day Logan wouldn’t be coming back home. Not today, not tomorrow, or day after tomorrow.

He hadn’t known when he would return, but he had been guessing it would be at the earliest at the end of the week. Five, six, or possibly seven whole days on her own. Not knowing if he were okay. Not even knowing if he were alive.

She pushed back all suspicions about Logan’s wellbeing immediately when they surfaced. It would be stupid to spend any time thinking about it. He’d be okay. He had promised that to her. And she had promised to trust him. It was time to start keeping that promise for real.

She sat up and yawned widely, stretching her back and groaning loudly. Today she would meet with Ariadne. She would go through the plans and first stages of her scenario with her. Just a quick run to test her limits so that Ariadne could make the finishing touches to the programming.

Well, it wasn’t Ariadne herself who would type down the code required. It would be one of her assistants.
“The day I voluntarily touch to one of those dreadful machines is the day I’m ready for my grave…” Woman had muttered gesturing towards the computer station at the observation booth when she had been giving Marie a tour around the place.
“I’m too old fashioned to deal with those monstrosities. Give me an ordinary computer any day, but that thing…” Her whole body had shuddered from the mere thought of hooking up with the machine.

Computer that was used to generate the holographic projections required a direct connection with it’s user to function properly. User had a small jak installed to his or her left temple, and through it the brain could be connected directly with the computer.

She was in the shower when first small nagging whispers of doubt crept in to her mind. In the end, would it be such a great idea to force her body to do something it was obviously unwilling to do? And what if after triggered she didn’t know how to turn the mist off? Every time before she had been almost in a trance-like state, fear, utter horror dictating her actions. She had no recollection of how she had done what needed to be done to release the mist nor what made it stop.

She turned of the shower and toweled herself dry, trying to ignore the small voice at the back of her head that was trying to talk her out of what she was going to do. Everything would be alright. It was something she wanted to do. Right? Nobody, not Logan nor the army had ever even hinted that she should try to control her mutations. Quite contrary, Logan had just basically shrugged his wide shoulders and told her to do what she wanted. Army had only given her possibility to train under watchful eyes.

She got dressed, not really even paying attention to what she put on. There was no point in getting all dressed up; she’d go in to the training tank naked. The blue mist would eat off everything except the adamantium.

She made it as far as to the front door of the small house she shared with Logan when she froze.

There she stood, her hand clasped around the handle. All ready to go. And those small whispers weren’t there anymore. Her whole being was screaming, in full alert. Every nerve and tendon stretched taut, ready to run and hide. Run because Logan wasn’t there. Hide because getting in to that tank she’d be doing the greatest mistake of her life. She wasn’t suspecting anything. Suddenly she was dead on sure, that nothing good would come out of the test Ariadne had planned for her.

“Maybe we should go back…”
“You think so? Wonder what spawned that bright idea…” Logan muttered, trying his best to stop slippery organs spilling out from the gut wound and trying to get stitches on it moderately straight. Luckily Vasquez was already gone to the place and state beyond pain, and just lay there, letting him take care of the long cut on her side.
“Look at us… They fucking ambushed us…” Vasquez coughed, but no blood was spilling from her lips. That had to be a good sign.
“We’re going back. The two of us. Can’t take anybody else, not in that state…” Before she went down Vasquez had managed to revive the rest of the team. Perhaps revive was too strong word to use. Re-Animate would have been more correct. Army of brain dead corpses, staring mutely when he sprinkled general amount of antibiotic powder over the wound before wrapping long stretch of gauze around Vasquez’s torso for keep the stitches from tearing.
“Okay. It’s done. I’m going to take care of the guys. If anything happens, doctor, heal yourself,” Logan muttered, patted Vasquez’s shoulder and went to the grim task of taking care of the problem.

There was no use to give them proper burial. Desert would take care of the bodies, just as it would take care of the slain enemies. Green lizards and their secret weapon, biologically engineered new breed of monsters from hell. Black heavily armored lizard-like creatures walking on two legs and bleeding acid. It had taken his whole team to get rid of them, and now he had to get rid of his team because Vasquez had been too tired or she wasn’t powerful enough for to begin with to bring people back from the dead.

It was relatively easy. They still remembered their training, and when he told them to fall in line, they did it without batting an eye. They just stood on their ground and stared forward when he lopped off their heads, one after another. Still healing wounds on his back from when he covered Vasquez with his body to shield her from the exploding body of a black lizard were itching and stretching his skin taut when he moved his hands. Acid was still trickling down his shredded uniform, but his blood and exposure had diluted it somewhat.

Task completed he returned to the truck. Vasquez was sleeping on her back on the lorry, used syringe still clutched in to her hand. He stripped off his uniform and rolled in the sand, scrubbing it over his skin. It cling to blood and grime, but after sun dried it, it started to fall of, leaving only thin sheen of dust covering him, and he didn’t feel so sticky and sweaty anymore. He felt sorry for Vasquez. She’d have to wait until they get back to the base before she could clean herself up. Even then it would be just a careful sponge bath.

He secured the woman with straps used to tie down their cargo and hopped on the driver’s seat. Cast a glance towards the radio. It was shot to hell. One of the greenies had managed to get in to the truck and before they had gotten it out it had trashed the cockpit for good.

He didn’t get far. Truck started and rolled forward few meters before the engine died down, and he couldn’t get it start again, no matter how hard he kicked the tires, how loudly he cursed the damn contraption or how many times he popped the hood and tinkered with wires and bolts.

“Bodycount, time to wake up.” Woman muttered and tried to turn on her side. He grabbed her before she managed to hurt herself and slapped her on the cheek.
“Rise and shine, little bitch. We’re going to take a walk.” Vasquez’s eyes fluttered open.
“Sir, fuck you, sir!”
“Not now, Vasquez. Besides, I have a feeling my wife would strongly disapprove. On your feet now. We’re going to walk back. Those fuckers trashed the truck, and I can’t fix it with what we have.”
“I can’t walk…” Vasquez hissed. She could barely move.
“Tough luck. You have to. I’m carrying the water.”

He grabbed few canisters. They would probably be enough. It would take three days to reach the base on foot. Turned and hopped down from the lorry, then as an afterthought went to one of the corpses that still had nearly intact uniform on, took it and put it on. Started walking to the direction of the base.

Vasquez joined his company half an hour later. Face ashen, sweating profusely and spewing curses directed at him, swaying on her feet but moving on her own. Half an hour from that she fell, and he had to discard one canister of water and drag her unconscious form after him like a sled.

At the end of the second day there was still plenty of water left, he was afraid to let Vasquez drink too often. Just small sips every now and then to keep her from dehydrating. For a while she had been in better shape, even walked, leaning against him, but there was no way he could avoid rank stench of sickness wafting from the wound on her side. Now she was barely conscious, lolling on his shoulder and talking. Talking constantly to people that weren’t even there. Fallen comrades, family members and friends.

He kicked the sand and cursed softly. He had thought about almost everything. Almost. What he hadn’t taken in to consideration when they had abandoned the truck was that Vasquez was severely wounded, and would have needed fresh bandages, antibiotics and antiseptics to clean the wound.

He’d get through. Hell, if he left Vasquez behind, he would probably reach the base at dawn. But he couldn’t very well just abandon the only survival from his team now. When he stepped on to something sticky and squishy in the darkness his first instinct was to jump aside and squeal from the surprise. Stench of rotting flesh skyrocketed.

Vasquez wasn’t the only source of the foul smell. His nose told him that there was in fact a rotting carcass at his feet. Still warm from when sun had been boiling it earlier today.

He had discarded his boots earlier for the sake of the balance. It was easier to stay on your feet on the sinking sand when you could spread your toes and finding good solid surface to walk was piece of cake. Now there was something slimy and sticky squirming between his toes.

For a moment he just stood there. It took few minutes to add everything, but suddenly he knew what to do. He knew how to keep Vasquez from dying to gangrene.

He lowered the woman on the ground carefully and turned his attention to the rotting carcass at his feet. Some kind of small, hairy critter. Died earlier that day. And already squirming and wriggling from the sheer amount of bugs. He poked it with his finger, and found instantly what he was looking for. Small white larvae, crawling in and out through swollen side of the carcass, filling now empty eye sockets.
“You’re in luck, Vasquez…” He murmured, collecting as many small and fragile larvae he could reach to his palm, grimacing when he closed his fingers to a loose fist around them to prevent them from escaping and could feel them squirming and wriggling around wildly.

“Commander… What… What’s going on…” Vasquez sobered slightly when he started to unwrap the bandage from around her.
“You’re starting to rot. Have to stop it. Found some small buggers, hungry as hell, all ready to help you out. Come on; sit up a bit, lean on to me. Have to keep this gauze as clean as possible…”
“Bugs? You’re… You’re giving me maggots?”
“Yeah. Don’t say I never give you anything. Keep still, these will fall off if you start twitching.”

He wrapped the gauze carefully over the wound. Vasquez let out a low chuckle.
“I guess… I guess it’s better than what the last guy gave me… Took fucking three weeks to get rid of those critters…”
“Jesus, woman. Too much information there.”
“Sorry, commander…”
“Don’t fret over it. So, ready to walk?”
“I don’t know… Let me think about it…” Vasquez whispered, licking her dry lips and closing her eyes.
“Think fast. I’d like to see my wife again before we’re both old and grey.”
“Wife-smife… Why the fuck do… You keep calling her that? Commander?” Vasquez added the commander out of habit more than out of respect, he could tell it from her tone. It didn’t matter.
“I call her my wife because that’s what she is. My wife. My life.”
“You’re freaking me out… Help me up, I think I can… I think I can walk for a while…”

At dawn he was dragging Vasquez behind him on a makeshift harness he had made by cutting the jacket of his borrowed uniform to straps. It had been tricky to adjust it so that it wouldn’t squash the maggots crawling in the wound on her side, but he had managed to figure it out. He had tried to cover her face with a piece of cloth to prevent her skin from burning in the sun, but in the end he had settled to turning her face down instead.

“Has anybody ever… Told you what a… Nice ass you have, commander?” Raspy whisper reached his ears just before he could feel Vasquez pinching his left buttock weakly.
“I could sue you for harassment, you know.”
“Aww, come on… You even gave me maggots…”
“It’s not like we’re engaged or anything. I’m not in to polygamy.”
“You know… You’re pretty much only guy that… That hasn’t tried to get in to my pants yet… Why?”
“Huh?”
“Is there something wrong… With me?”
“Truth to be told, darling, you kind of reek right now. Stench of rotting flesh has never been a turn-on for me.”
“And there’s your wife…”
“Yeah.”
“No… I really mean that…”
“Yeah. I do have a wife.”
“She’s standing over there… Those dunes on our right side…”

It really was Marie. Naked as the day she was born, frozen to the spot, and scent of her fear was strong enough to nearly drown the stench of sickness wafting from Vasquez.
“Marie? What are you doing out here?” Logan asked fiddling with the straps that kept Vasquez tied to him. He lowered the woman carefully on the ground and took a step towards Marie. She let out a whimper and started backing away.
“Marie? Marie, wait… Shit.”

She fled to opposite direction, running away from him, away from the base, towards open desert.
“Wait here. I’ll go and see what’s her problem,” Logan told to Vasquez. Woman nodded, unwrapping the straps from around her with clumsy fingers.

He started after Marie. It wasn’t hard to catch her. He grabbed her from behind and they both fell on the sand, Marie screaming and kicking, trying to struggle free from his hold. He managed to pin her down and keep her from hurting him, but holding her like this made him feel like a world-class asshole. She was crying and avoiding his gaze, twisting her body and arms in an attempt to get free.

“Marie. Marie! Stop!” Something was wrong. So wrong that he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, not before Marie calmed down a bit and stench of her fear started to evaporate and turn to something else entirely. His own scent, mingling with horrid stench of artificial hormones was pushing through every pore on Marie’s skin.
“What the hell is going on?”
“You’re going to be a daddy again…”

“This is fucking unbelievable!” He was unable to sit still and listen when Marie checked Vasquez’s wound and started telling what had happened after he left the base. He paced, kicked and screamed until he was too tired to move and his voice was only hoarse whisper.

“I had agreed with Ariadne that I’d go to her as soon as you left. I got cold feet. Stayed back home the whole day. Next morning, that… That was yesterday, I think… I finally decided to stop hiding. When I got to the training facility they told me that all the contacts to your team had been severed. That they thought that you all were dead. I didn’t believe them. You promised to come back, so you couldn’t be dead. So I wasn’t that worried, and we… Ariadne and I decided to start the test anyway. I was already in the tank when they came. Five of them. From another department. They… They told that I was too old, but that they’d try it anyway because it had worked before and you were gone and they needed another you… They had samples of your sperm. Don’t know when they got those. Probably at the same time when they installed those lasers in to your hands…” Marie’s voice broke. She took few calming breaths and closed her eyes, then shook her head. When she opened her eyes, her gaze locked straight to his burning eyes.
“They strapped me down, pumped me full of stuff that was supposed to wake up my ovaries and uterus and waited for a while. Then they impregnated me. My mutation kicked in, the blue mist, and they had to stay away from me. I just walked out from there and started running.”

He could hear Vasquez whistling, then muttering something to Marie. He could see Vasquez sitting up slowly and moving to hug Marie who was now crying with great, heaving sobs. He could hear and see, feel the small grains of sand digging in to his knees through his pants, but he was unable to move. Not again. Goddamned, not again! Thought swirled around in his head, blocking everything else from its path until even the simple task of breathing became almost impossible. He closed his eyes and tried to block off Marie’s sobs and Vasquez’s silently whispered reassurances. Stood up slowly, forcing his numb muscles to obey.

Now it all made sense. Strange, unmarked vehicle speeding away when they approached the enemy base. The fact that greenies seemed to know they were coming. Alert state of the enemy base.

There had been another team, sent several days before his team. The real recon team. His team had been expendable, sent there to hopefully destroy the enemy base while researchers back at home base had been delving in to secrets the other team had extracted.

“Bodycount?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“I have some things to take care of at the base. You will stay here and take care of my wife while I’m gone. There should be enough water left for you two until I get back.”

He knew he couldn’t sneak in to the base undetected. That really wasn’t a problem, since he wasn’t planning to leave anybody alive, it actually would be more convenient for him if as many people as possible were at the front gate when he arrived.

He tried to keep up steady pace when he jogged over the slowly cooling sand. There was no use to drive yourself to the brink of exhaustion when your target wasn’t even expecting you. On the other hand he didn’t have much time to loiter around, water supply he left to Marie and Vasquez was more than sufficient, but sun was a merciless host to those squatting in the desert.

It was closer to dawn; sun was rising when he triggered the first line of motion detectors. They weren’t expecting anybody, so they should react to the alarms quite quickly. He hopped over the second line, then stepped purposefully straight on the third line, and kept hopping like that over random lines, trying to create an illusion of a much bigger creature approaching to those who kept an eye on the alarms.

He slowed down and walked the last hundred meters separating him from the front gate of the base. It was wide open. There were no guards. Nobody standing behind heavy artillery mounted on top of the thick wall surrounding the base. Absolutely nobody stood there waiting for him. As he got closer, scent of fresh blood and innards assaulted his sinuses, and his hackles rose instantly. He stopped in front of the gates, claws oozing from their sheaths. Nobody. The base was deathly silent. He raised his head and took in the cacophony of scents that hung in the air like a heavy, sticky blanket. Blood. Flesh. Gunpowder. Electricity. Barrels of the lasers on his knuckles were burning hot, adding the stench of his own charring blood to the mix.

He walked past the gates, small echoes from his silent footsteps the only noise aside from slight breeze that had picked up, and stumbled upon the first signs that something had indeed happened. Guards who should have been standing at the gate, all four of them lay on the ground, bodies torn and scattered to every imaginable direction. As he walked further in to the base, more bodies he started to encounter, soldiers and civilians alike. Bodies torn and dismembered, some of them partly eaten.

After covering the whole base he had to face the truth. Somebody had gotten here before him. Somebody had gotten in and somehow slaughtered the whole fucking base, stealing his opportunity to revenge what was done to Marie and his team. He took his frustration out to pile of uniformed corpses, tearing in to dead flesh, kicking, clawing and screaming his rage out to the sky. And another voice answered to the obscenities he spat out. High-pitched screech coming from above. He managed to catch a glimpse of something black and shiny, then he fell, creature stomping on his back and howling its challenge.

The other team had brought one of the black creatures greenies had been breeding back to the base. He struggled and managed to throw it off from him, then rolled quickly on his feet and faced the monster that had been stalking him on the roof of the mess hall.
“Holy shit…”

Creatures at the enemy base had been big. The one he was staring at right now was huge. Long, black head towering well over two meters high, on top of clumsy-looking, surprisingly agile bony, black and armored body. Long tail swirled in the air, razor-sharp tip of it sliding past his face, and he could feel it parting the skin over his cheekbone. Creature screeched again, revealing impressive set of sharp teeth, and second set of jaws hidden inside of its mouth.
“You’re one, big, ugly…” Creature moved fast. Faster than he had imagined, and its tail pierced his stomach.
“Fucker! Oh, shit!”

Creature swung its tail, throwing him against the wall of the mess hall, and he slid free. Wounds on his stomach and back were closing rapidly, but not fast enough. Creature hissed and stalked closer. He lifted his hand, lasers tore out from his knuckles and three bright beams pierced creature's head, blowing it up and splattering greenish blood to everywhere. He tried to curl as small target as possible, but generous amount of burning liquid rained on him as well, eating skin and muscle. Creature’s still bleeding torso toppled over and landed heavily on his legs, trapping him efficiently against the wall he was leaning to, spilling even more acid on him.

He was burning, trapped under heavy carcass and burning. Acid had burned through his pants, eaten off skin and tissues, and from the sudden coldness seeping through his whole body he knew that at least one major vessel had ruptured. He’d have to get away from the dead bastard before he fainted. If he stayed here the fucker could probably dissolve him for good.

“You fucking… pathetic excuse of a… Get the fuck off from me!” He used all the remaining strength in him to push the carcass off from his feet, then crawled what he assumed was a safe distance, few meters away from it.
“Christ…” His body was trying to heal, tissues crept over damaged parts over and over again, but as long as he had acid on him, in his wounds, it was futile. He’d have to find water to wash it off. Easier said than done. There was a gaping hole on his abdomen. Huge chunks of flesh were missing from his thighs and hips, rendering his feet useless, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t stay conscious much longer.

His head fell back against the dusty ground. He could feel the acid inside of him as it ate him, slowly, piece by piece. He didn’t have the slightest idea what would happen. Would it stop? When it would stop? He tried to roll on his side, but decided against it when he felt what was left of his internal organs starting to slip out from the wound on his stomach. Better stay still and wait. It would stop eventually. It had to stop. The pain and burning. It had to stop and go away because he couldn’t take it much longer.

“Fuck…” There was no time to waste. Every minute he spent here squirming meant more minutes for Marie and Vasquez under the scorching sun. Marie… She’d be all right; she’d heal, but Vasquez… She’d be as good as dead if he didn’t get moving soon.

He covered the gaping hole on his stomach with his palm, wincing when acid started to burn through his hand. He’d have to be fast. He sat up and turned on his knees. Nearly threw up when slimy mixture of green and blood oozed from between his fingers. His legs were numb, but he managed to stand up and stumble in to the mess hall.

From the looks of it the people had been at breakfast when the black bitch from hell had crashed the party. Bodies were everywhere, strewn across tables and littering the floor. He slipped to a puddle of blood and crashed heavily against a sturdy table, more of the contents of his stomach spilling through the wound on his abdomen. It wasn’t working. Acid had nearly eaten through his palm. He’d have to find something else than his hands to keep his innards to where they belonged. He grabbed a plate from the table he was leaning against. Perfect size, and spotless. Slapped it over the hole, letting out a relived sob when he could remove his hand from the nasty mess of blood and slime.

He wobbled slowly forward from table to table, stopping to rest when his knees threatened to give up. He could see his destination, narrow metal door of the kitchen. He could see his last obstacle as well. He’d have to cross approximately five meters wide-open gap that separated the last table and the door. There would be nothing to support him, nothing to lean on to.

He stopped to rest, lowering his upper body on to the table, his eyes fixed to the door. Few swift strides and he’d be in the kitchen, standing at the sink. Few swift strides. He tried to laugh, but managed only strangled croak before pain in his abused stomach and thighs nearly made him to fall on to the floor. There would be no striding. Maybe crawling and stumbling if he was lucky. Sweat was dripping in to his eyes, making them burn and sting. He blinked few times and blew off strands of hair that had fallen on his forehead.
“Fuck…” He’d be getting absolutely nowhere just leaning on the table. He took a deep breath, then forced himself to upright position, his back held straight and feet slightly apart.
“Get your act together, you fucking pussy. You have gotten through worse…”

First step unsupported made him stumble, but he regained his balance and managed to walk in to the kitchen, collapsing against the sink and grasping the showerhead meant to clean dishes just before his knees really gave up and he slid on the floor.
“Figures…” He threw off the showerhead he had accidentally torn off. Useless piece of junk now. But he was closer to the water now. All he had to do was to reach under the sink and slice the plumbing in half, and he would have all the water he wanted. Now only question remained which of the pipes he should cut. One would give him what he needed. From the other he would get lap full of raw sewage.
“Well, only one way to find out…” He crawled under the sink, extended his claws and sliced through metal pipe, falling on his back and letting out surprised yelp when crystal clear water squirted out. He yanked off the plate covering his stomach before it dissolved and got mixed with the ugly mess that had previously been his innards, then promptly passed out when cold water flooded his abdominal cavity.

He woke up a good while later, finding himself from a puddle of cold water and shredded innards. Sight and feel of it made him squeak and scramble away, soles of his feet and palms slipping on the floor and splashing the gross substance to everywhere. He was at his feet; rubbing his hands clean to the torn sleeves of his pants before he realized that it had, in fact, worked. There was not a mark on him, aside from torn pants and still tender ticklish stomach that anything at all had happened. It was time to get moving. Judging from the position of the sun he could see through the window he had already squandered almost half a day.

He was hungry, downright ravenous. He yanked open the large, industrial sized walk-in fridge and grabbed the nearest thing he could reach before running off to find supplies and a suitable truck.

Chewing on the chicken he had snatched he entered to a hangar next to the mess hall. Walked past a row of heavily armored tanks before he found what he was looking for. Relatively light truck, equipped with wide tires, and enclosed lorry. He checked the truck, found solar panels clean and intact, batteries full, radio and radar fully operational. All he had to do was to stock up the lorry with food, water and medical supplies, and he’d be good to go.

First aid first. He drove to the hospital and parked in front of it, trying to swerve around bodies thrown to everywhere and grimacing when he couldn’t. Every bump and grinding noise from under the truck reminding him that he had known most of these people, even considered few of them as his friends. Well, what was gone was gone. They had gotten what they deserved. Every one of them. He kept silently cursing the creature that had taken away his revenge, but at the same time he felt strange gratuity towards it. Even pity. Greenies had made it. Made it to be used against men. He doubted anybody had asked its opinion over the matter.

When he entered to the hospital he encountered strange, slimy cocoons on the floor, ten of them placed smack dab in the middle of the entrance hall. He had seen more of those back at the greenies’ base. Nobody had known what they were for, but they had suspected that the cocoons were some kind of eggs, just waiting for hatching. It was easy to picture them blowing open all of a sudden, and black death incarnates straight from hell streaming out from them. He skirted past the cocoons fast, passing the nurse’s desk and wandering deeper in to the building.

First rooms he passed yielded even more torn corpses, but soon he hit the jackpot. Locked door, with a sign ‘storage’ placed on it. Not bothering to look for the keys he just unsheathed his claws and the lasers, blasting the door open.

Cabinets in the room were bit trickier. He couldn’t just blast them open; he would have destroyed the contents of them as well. He concentrated and extended his middle claw, forcing the lasers and rest of the claws to stay back, and picked the locks. Snatched a bag that was hanging on the wall and stuffed it full with antibiotics, painkillers, gauze and everything else he imagined they could need in the near future. Once he thought he heard a sound. Like small claws tapping and scratching against the concrete floor, but when he turned to look there was nobody there.

He left the hospital through the back door. There was no way he would have gone past those slimy cocoons at the entrance hall again, not knowing what they were or what might happen. Instead he braved past the trash bins, nearly gagging from the rank stench they spread around, and ran fast to the truck, throwing the makeshift first aid kit inside and slammed the door shut, cursing his own stupidity. There was a fucking first aid kit in the mess. There was food in the mess. Camping gear was stored in the hangar. He wouldn’t have had to go in to the hospital in the first place if he had used even a fraction of his brain.

Finally, an hour later he was ready to go, truck stocked to the brim with everything even marginally necessary. Only one more stop and he could kiss this cruddy hellhole for goodbye. He turned the truck around and started towards the officer’s district. He was going to make a quick stop at their house. Gather everything he could with him in the truck. He was getting rather tired of replacing every stitch of clothing and item they owned every time they had to move.

Something get rattling behind him in the lorry all the while he drove, but he figured it was just one of the boxes he had thrown in there. He really should strap them down tighter as soon as he got back to Marie and Vasquez. Not that there was anything breakable, mostly tinned food and jugs of water, but noise grated his nerves. Like a constant, false reminder that something was wrong.

Sun was setting when the truck rolled out from the base. He hit a bump on the ground, and rattling noise he had managed to silence by moving some boxes around on the lorry returned. He cursed tiredly. There really was no time to stop any longer. It would take him several hours to reach Marie and Vasquez, and because all of the delays Vasquez was probably already dead, and there was no telling of what state he would find Marie in. He did his best to block out the persistent rattling, and concentrated on thinking how to handle the situation at hand. What to do. What to tell to his pregnant wife. How to explain her why he wasn’t going to be able to tolerate the small, fragile life she was carrying in her womb.

It was dark when he reached the women. They sat huddled together at the same spot he had left them earlier, only difference was that instead of Vasquez holding Marie it was the other way around. Marie was shielding Vasquez. He stopped the truck, leaving the headlights on, took the first aid kit and walked to them.

“How is she?” He asked.
“Still alive. Barely. What took you so long?”
“Got held up. Move her a bit, I need to check the wound.”
“I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Last time I tried she bit me.”
“Bit you? What the fuck… Bodycount! Wake up! Bodycount? Vasquez?”
“Sir, yes… Sir…”
“I’m going to clean you up. Bite me, and next thing you bite will be a bullet. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, sir… Commander Wolverine… Sir.”
“And stop that. I’m retired. It’s Logan.”
“Sir, yes…”
“I mean it, Vasquez. Marie will turn you around. It’ll hurt. Hurt her, or hurt me, and I’ll hurt you even more.”

An hour later they sat together on the sand, leaning their backs to the front tire of the truck. After good deal of cursing, mild violence and much cajoling and negotiating they had managed to clean Vasquez’s wound, and now she lay in the back of the truck, half comatose from the amount of painkillers and the mixture of different antibiotics Logan had administered to her.

“Are you alright?” Marie asked. Logan pulled her against him.
“I should be the one asking that. They fucked you up. Again.”
“It could have been worse. You could have been in there. At least this time… This time it wasn’t you.”

He grimaced and buried his face to the crook of her neck.
“What do you want to do?” He asked, his voice muffled by the curtain of her hair.
“To do?” She asked, clearly puzzled.
“Yeah. I hope you didn’t have any plans for tonight.”
“Huh?”
“I was hoping we could just sit here. It feels like it has been ages since I last held you like this.”
“Is… Is that all you want to do?”
“Nope. But figured that after what happened, what those bastards did to you, you wouldn’t want anything extra inside of you for a while. This is good. I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Marie…”
“Because I could really use something extra inside of me right now. You’re not the only one who got used to get laid on a regular basis.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So… Are we going to sit and watch the stars, or are we going to see how many stars we can light up together?”
“I’d rather sit.”
“Oh.”

He could tell that she was confused. And horny as hell. Was it because of the hormones they had pumped in to her, or had she just missed him he didn’t know. But he knew that if he fucked with her now, he wouldn’t be able to tell if the baby she was carrying were the end result of the stunt they pulled at her back at the base, or was it really his.

“I…” He started, but sudden racket echoing from the lorry of the truck saved him from further explanations. They bolted at their feet. The whole truck was trembling and shaking.
“Vasquez!” Woman stood at the edge of the lorry, struggling with arachnid-like creature. Creature had a long tail that it had wrapped around Vasquez’s neck, and it tried to grab her face with eight, bony, finger-like appendages. Vasquez had managed to grab a firm hold from the creature’s slimy looking body, but she was fighting a loosing battle. Arachnid was strangling her.

Logan got to her first and grabbed the tail, trying to loosen it from around Vasquez’s neck. It wasn’t working. Though the creature looked soft and fragile it was surprisingly strong, and tail felt like it was welded to Vasquez’s skin. From this close Logan could see and opening on the underside of the creature, and some kind of mouthpiece extending from that opening. It was extending towards Vasquez’s face, dribbling slime and making wet, smacking noises. He clamped his palm over Vasquez’s mouth, running purely on instinct. Creature let go of Vasquez and slid around, turning it’s attention to him. Vasquez fell on the ground, gasping for air, still dizzy from sedatives and exhausted. He noticed from the corner of his eye Marie dragging Vasquez away. Then the arachnid struck, cord-like tail wrapping tightly around his throat, nearly crushing his windpipe. He gagged, giving the arachnid an opening for its next move. It slammed against his face, and he felt part of it sliding in to his mouth, down to his throat, throbbing and dribbling something warm and sticky, bony legs wrapping around his head, locking in to place.

He was moving. Floating in the darkness. Breathing. He was able to breathe again. There was something hard under his back. Sudden lurch, and he hit the back of his head, sitting up gagging and gasping for air.
“Wow… She was right…”

He was at the back of the truck, side by side with Vasquez who looked already much better than the last time he had seen her. Woman reached with her hand and it fell limply on his thigh, fingers squeezing weakly.
“Hands off… I think I’m going to be sick…” He pulled his knees against his chest and hid his face against them, forcing back the bile that had risen to his mouth.
“Were you really dead, commander?” He could hear Vasquez asking. She was rubbing his lower back.
“Watch it… I need to lay down…” He flopped on his back, shivering and panting from the effort it had taken to simply sit up for few seconds. Nausea escalated. Something was sliding and churning inside of him, slithering around, pushing and poking delicate organs.
“Marie…”
“She’s driving. You’ve been out for two whole days. I wanted to bring you back, but she said you’d come around on your own,” Vasquez gave him the update.
“Tell her to stop the truck… I feel like shit…” He curled on his side and felt immediately better, as if heavy weight had been lifted from top of him. He could hear Vasquez shouting something, then the truck shuddered and he could feel it slowing down, then stopping completely.

“There’s something wrong with me… Inside of me… What happened to that sticky fucker?” He asked, sitting hunched on the edge of the lorry, stinky evidence of his bout of nausea drying in the sun on the sand beneath his dangling feet. Marie was sitting beside him, keeping him upright. Her hands were stroking his stomach.
“It just died. Died off after couple of hours. I threw it out and kept on driving. Figured you’d be okay when you started breathing.”
“I’m not fucking okay… Oh, God… I think I’m going to…” He managed to lean forward just in time to avoid soiling his clothes with acidic mixture of bile and blood his body expelled.

“Better?” Marie asked when he leaned backwards, wiping his mouth.
“Little…” He huffed hoarsely and accepted a bottle of water Vasquez pushed in his hands, taking a careful sip and rinsing his mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to actually swallow the water, but it felt good on his tongue.
“What’s this?” Marie asked. Her hand had slipped under his shirt and he could feel her fingers poking and prodding his upper stomach, just under his ribcage. He spat out the water.
“What’s what?” He asked. She took his hand and brought it on his stomach.

There was a bulge. Approximately the size of his fist. Hard, and skin was stretched over it taut.
“I have no fucking idea of what it is.”
“You haven’t pulled a muscle lately?” Marie asked.
“Pulled a muscle? You mean it’s some sort of hernia? I kind of doubt that…” Logan uttered grimacing.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah… I’m no doctor but I’m quite sure that hernias aren’t supposed to grow a pair of hands when you poke at them…”
“Grow a pair of hands… Logan, are you hallucinating? … Oh, my God!”

Logan had unbuttoned his shirt. As she watched the bulge disappeared momentarily, and then something, as a pair of very small hands with three fingers each pushed against Logan’s skin from the inside of him.
“It isn’t dead. It’s inside of me… And I think it wants out…”
“Out?” Vasquez asked. He grimaced and screwed his eyes shut. He could hear the creature inside of his mind, screaming and screeching. It was already preparing for the birth. He didn’t know why he could understand it, but it was plain as a day. One way or the other it was going to come out.

He grasped blindly the hand that had landed on his shoulder, fleeting wish that it was Marie’s instead of Vasquez’s flickering through his mind. He’d crush the delicate bones he felt in his grip. Marie would heal, but Vasquez would be crippled for life. Then there was only pain, and he could hear somebody screaming. He was tearing open. Warm, eager blood was gushing over his stomach and pooling over his lap.

It was ugly as hell. Miniature carbon copy of the adults of the species. It burst out through the skin and muscle, screeching victoriously. He grasped it with numb fingers before it managed to flee from the scene of the crime and snapped its bony neck. Then fell on his back on to the lorry, his feet still dangling over the edge and the lifeless carcass of the black creature splayed on top of him.

“Congratulations, commander. It’s a boy,” he heard Vasquez declaring.
“I don’t give a flying fuck… And how do you know which one it is?” He asked, fumbling around, trying to reach Marie, to see if she was alright. Since Vasquez wasn’t in any pain, it had been Marie’s hand he had grasped earlier.
“I saw one different adult when we were clearing that base. It had this… Thing sticking out from the back of its head. Like some sort of plate of armor. And it was laying eggs. This one doesn’t have that ridge,” Vasquez explained, poking the carcass.
“Thank you for that insightful tidbit of information… Would you mind? Take that critter and get the fuck out for a moment? I need my wife…” He hissed, trying to sit up to find out how badly exactly the little scavenger from hell had torn him. Then the carcass and Vasquez were gone and Marie was there, holding him and crying, her hands feeling up his torso and sliding over his scalp, wiping off tendrils of hair that had fallen over his forehead.

“Hush. I’m alright now…” Actually, to his amazement he didn’t have to lie about that. He was still exhausted from the blood loss, but the nausea and the pain were gone. When he slid his hand over his stomach he found only smooth skin. No gaping hole. Just skin, slippery from blood.
“Is… Was that what they look like? The greenies?” Marie asked, wiping her eyes.
“No. That’s their latest weapon. They were breeding those. And now those… Things… They’re loose. There was one adult back at the base… And eggs.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah… We have to get the hell out of here. I don’t know if they can hatch on their own or do they need a host… And I’m as sure as hell not going to sit around and wait so that I can find out…”
“Um… Can you drive?” Marie asked. That made him sit up and take a closer look at her.
“Are you alright? I didn’t… I did… Shit. I hurt you. Let me see your hand.”
“It’s already healed. But bit sore. It’s alright…”
“Fuck it isn’t alright. I’m sorry, kid. Shit… Come here. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Come here…”

He pulled her closer until she was straddling him and sunk his fingers to her hair, his palms cradling her face.
“I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt you. I broke that promise. Can you forgive me?” He asked. Marie stared at him, tears still gleaming in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, chewing on her lower lip. Then brought her hands cradling his face, and kissed him gently.
“I won’t forgive you. There’s nothing to forgive,” she whispered when their lips parted.
“We’re good?” Logan asked. She nodded.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. And I…” Sharp knock echoing from the outside interrupted them. They peered over the edge of the lorry. Vasquez was standing there.
“Sorry to interrupt, commander, but it looks like we’re getting company.”

Their gazes turned to the direction Vasquez was pointing at. Thick cloud of dust nearly covered the five vehicles. They were approaching fast. Coming from the direction of the ruined base.
“Okay, people. Get in to the car. I’m driving,” Logan grunted, jumping down from the lorry.
“Shouldn’t we wait and see who it is?” Vasquez asked.
“No. We shouldn’t. Considering the fact that when I left that place everybody was dead. Either greenies have finally learned how to drive, or those black fuckers can re-animate corpses. Either way, we’re screwed if they catch us.”
“Okay. What the hell are we waiting for? Let’s get going!” Vasquez exclaimed and sprinted towards the truck.
“Afraid of few corpses, Bodycount?” Logan chuckled when he climbed behind the wheel and took the keys Marie offered. Vasquez stared out from the window. From this distance Logan could make out the sharp, black outlines of the alien, slowly sinking to the sand the light breeze was whipping around.
“Afraid of turning in to a corpse. With all do respect, commander, do I have to drive or will this truck get moving soon?”
“With all do respect, Elena… I have to throw you out from this fucking truck if you don’t drop that commander-crap immediately,” Logan grunted and showed the keys to the ignition, starting the engine.
“Are you done playing the big, bad soldier?” Marie asked.
“For good. Time to hit the road, darling. Hang on, this might get rough…”
“Trust me. I know what he’s talking about,” Vasquez affirmed.
“I drove with Logan when you were still learning to walk. I think I know exactly what’s going on,” Marie retorted, suddenly slightly angered. Of course Vasquez only meant well, but her protective, and truth to be told, coddling attitude started to annoy her.

“We should probably go and warn these settlements,” Vasquez said, tapping two dots on the screen of the radar. Logan harrumphed, but turned the truck to their general direction.
“Is it a good idea? We’ll draw those aliens in there after us,” Marie pointed out, tapping red dots that marked the vehicles following them. Logan smirked.
“That’s the best idea I have heard in ages. I’m guessing that most of the men in those settlements are armed. Our friends will get a warm welcome from them…”
“What if they don’t have weapons?” Marie asked. Logan shrugged his shoulders.
“We’ll worry about that later. But we can’t keep running forever. Eventually something is going to give and we’ll have to stop. It might be something small, solar panels need cleaning or we need to change filters. It can be something we can’t fix, and if that happens, we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere with a swarm of goddamned monsters breathing down on us.”
“Commander?” Vasquez butted in to their conversation.
“Would you shut up!” Marie huffed.
“For the umpteenth time, Bodycount! Name’s Logan! Even Wolverine will do!” Logan growled.

Vasquez stared at them for a moment. They had spoken simultaneously, and it took her couple of seconds to comprehend what they had said.
“Logan, I have a plan,” she finally said. It seemed to twist her gut to call Logan anything else but the commander, and she pronounced his name like it was the worst kind of insult she could think of.
“Let’s hear it.”
“We can’t know which settlement they’re going to take on first. Drive to the other first, drop me off there and continue to the second,” Vasquez explained. Logan frowned.
“We can’t. I can’t afford to waste time for picking you up afterwards, you know that. It’s not only those aliens I need to worry about. We need to hide from the whole fucking army.”

Vasquez shook her head.
“I’m not coming with you, commander.”
“Elena…”
“You’re my commander, want it or not! But this time I can’t follow you. Army… It’s my home. Just leave me in to the first settlement, then drive to the second. I’ll send a message to let you know if the aliens attacked or not.”
“And after?”
“What do you mean, commander?” Vasquez asked puzzled. This time it was Marie’s turn to join in to the conversation.
“Will you be sending hunters after us?” She asked. Vasquez looked at her horrified look in her eyes.
“Hunters? No! I’ll tell them that you both died.”

Logan let out a bitter cackle. Vasquez turned to look at him questioningly.
“There’s exactly one person besides me in this truck that I trust with my life, and guess what? It isn’t you, Bodycount.”
“You think I would rat you out, commander?” Vasquez asked, anger creeping in to her voice.
“Fuck. I don’t think. I know that you’d sing out what happened after the interrogators had worked on you for few hours.”
“Interrogators? Sir… It’s not… It’s not like that anymore. All that stopped when the new army was reformed.”
“New army? You actually believe in that bullshit?” Logan asked. Vasquez looked confused.
“Just think about it. How many muties we had in our team?” Logan asked.
“I don’t know. I think at least Anderson was human. And Gordon. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“Anderson and Gordon were only humans in our team. Besides technicians and our superiors there were exactly three other non-mutants in the whole fucking base.”
“That’s… That’s impossible! And even if that’s true, I don’t see what it has to do with anything. Freaky coincidence or something, that’s all.”
“When I noticed the imbalance I checked things out. It’s the same throughout the line. Muties get sent to the front while humans sit back and enjoy the show. I can’t see why things would be much different than before ‘the peace’ between both races. People… They don’t harass us as openly as they did back then, but I bet there are things going on behind the veil. And I’d rather kill you to the spot than hand you over to them. I can’t risk Marie’s life. Hell, I won’t risk our lives. Either you tag along as long as it takes to make us all to disappear from their radar or I’ll finish you off. Which is it going to be, Bodycount?”

She tried to keep her hands on the wheel and her eyes on the dunes ahead. Tried not to think about what had happened just few minutes ago. Tried not to think about it too hard.

It hadn’t been too easy for Logan, but when Vasquez had refused to follow them, claiming that she would stay silent no matter what the possible interrogators did…

“Drive past those settlements. We can use them as a bumper between us and whoever it is that’s following us,” Logan grunted. She nodded.

She could see from the corner of her eye something, a scrap of paper, cloth?

“Shit. Who would have thought that there’d be so much blood in so little woman.”

When she could no longer see the red dots on the radar, but first settlement gleaming further down the desert she stepped on the brake and turned off the engine. Sat for a while. Then turned to look at Logan.

There was blood all over him, small speckles on his face, larger blotches on his torso. His hands and wrists were still caked with clotted layer, small scraps of paper stuck on it. Whole cab of the truck reeked of red, rusted copper.

“I warned her,” Logan said, his voice as hollow as his eyes. She just stared at him, not knowing what to do, what to say.
“I warned her. She had an option. It was her choice,” Logan repeated little louder, but she could see from his eyes that he was beginning to crack.
“I told her… I… I told her what would happen if they caught her! Why the fuck did she have to be so fucking stubborn?” He stuttered slightly, then opened the door and all but fell out, scrambling away from her sight, cursing and hissing when the scorching hot sand burned his bare palms.

For a long while Marie sat and stared at the empty seat beside her, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel.

Logan had killed Vasquez.

In a way it had been pre-emptive self-defense.

Vasquez had been the one thing that would have gotten them caught, the last loose end.

Why the hell it made her afraid of him all of a sudden?



He could still see the look on Vasquez’s face when the woman finally realized that he wasn’t joking. Too bad that it had been already too late, his claws firmly embedded in to her stomach, opening the wound they had earlier tried to protect from tearing. It was already partially healed, just fresh, clean tissues. Vasquez would have made it, she would have made it.

He leaned his back to the tire of the truck. He could see the last rays of sun reflecting from the settlement at the distance. People. Real people. Men, women, children. Muties? Who knew. Human? Most likely. Living their lives, scraping together what they could and pushing through the days, weeks, months, years. Not knowing, not caring about the war and world around them.

He could see them in his mind’s eye.

Children running around in dust, laughing.

Men and women working, tending small gardens, gathering the harvest, taking care of things.

Then one of them would raise his gaze from the chores; wipe the sweat from his brow.

See the ugly horde approaching.

They probably would have the time to get really scared, then it would be over. They wouldn’t have the training, they wouldn’t have weaponry.

As easily as he could imagine that, he could see what would happen if he turned now. If he told to Marie to go round the settlements. The truck would break down. He’d get caught. Marie would get caught.

“I’m so fucking tired of this shit…” His own broken voice brought him out of the stupor, awakened him to the fact that probably better half of an hour he had been just sitting zoned out, and why the fuck was the radar going berserk, and why the fuck hadn’t Marie come and warned him?

“What’s up? How many and how close are they?” He asked, vaulting on to the passenger’s seat. Marie all but screamed, scrambling out from the truck, away from him. What he saw on the radar made the blood in his veins thicken to the point where it felt like his veins would burst from the sheer pressure.

There were no red dots on the green. There were, however, little scraps of green visible from amidst of huge swarm of red dots.

When he looked outside he could see only blank desert, nothing out of the ordinary, but the radar told him otherwise.

“Marie, I think you should get back…” Her scream interrupted him.

They were everywhere, swarming around and underneath the truck. Screamers. Small and vicious devices, designed to chew through anything and everything. Marie had gotten back in to the truck at last possible moment, losing only her left shoe to one of the Screamers as she had been climbing the ladder at the side of the truck. She was shivering all over, staring through the wind shield. What ever had made her so scared of him earlier seemed to be forgotten at the face of this new threat.

“What… What are those?” She stuttered rubbing her bare ankle.
“Death.” There really was no better word to describe the machines that were currently chewing their way through the heavily plated side of the truck.
“What do you mean?” She asked, turning to look at Logan who had slumped against the backrest of the driver’s seat, his fingers drumming the steering wheel.
“They probably have a fancy title, but during the first war guys used to call them Screamers.”
“Because of that whiny noise they make?”
“Because of the noise you’ll be making when they start working on you.”
“Oh.”

For a while they sat in silence. He was already beginning to regret his bluntness, but there really was no reason to sugarcoat the issue at hand.

“How do we stop them?” Marie finally asked. All business. He suppressed the urge to laugh.

He could still remember his first encounter with the Screamers. Nobody really knew who had developed them. They attacked anything and everything with a pulse. His team had been scouting an abandoned village behind enemy lines. Suddenly ground around them had started shifting. Bubbling and boiling, sand rising and swirling, terrible screeching noise echoing from the buildings around them. His quick reflexes and generally paranoid attitude had been his saving grace. While the rest of the team had grouped together to face the possible threat he had retreated to the nearest building, finding a sturdy stone floor. Transport chopper sent to retrieve his team had rescued him from there at the last possible second, heavy stone slabs crumbling from beneath him as the Screamers tried to catch him.

“We don’t.”
“Oh?”
“There’s no way to stop them. We can wait right here or step outside and get this over more quickly.”
“We’re going to die no matter what we do?”
“Yeah.”
“Uhm…”

He couldn’t tell if she was simply acknowledging the fact or trying to come up with some sort of plan that was doomed to fail from the get go. She was again staring through the wind shield, her gaze sweeping the horizon. She looked calm. Resolved somehow. He closed his eyes and swallowed, waiting for her to speak first. When she stayed silent he turned to look at her and cleared his throat.

“I… Uh… I could help you out…” He stuttered.
“How?”

He unsheathed his claws. Barrels of the lasers tore their way through his knuckles as well, adding the scent of burnt blood and flesh to the stale air around them. It would take ages from him to die. At least he could make it quicker for her. Marie turned to look at him, tears shimmering in her eyes but an honest smile tugging the corner of her lips.

“Put those away, Logan. There’s a better way for the both of us,” she said, then leaned closer to kiss him. Her lips were dry and whispered over his quickly. He could smell the scent of ozone. He could feel and taste it on his lips.

“Are you sure?” He asked, ashamed of the relieved tone of his voice. Marie nodded, her face only inches from his, their noses nearly touching. This close he could see blue dots, small speckles dancing in her irises. Like miniscule explosions.

“Are you strong enough to…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.
“Strong enough to kill myself?” Marie asked. He swallowed and nodded. Marie shrugged.
“Probably. I… I think it’s enough if I just keep going. I noticed it before. The longer I keep using the blue mist, harder it gets to turn it off. It feels almost as if I could dissolve completely if I just kept going, and…”
“That’s awful lot of if’s and maybe’s. Are you absolutely sure? I don’t want you to do that if there’s a chance that it doesn’t work. I don’t want to leave you alone with the Screamers.”
“It will work. Trust me.”

He could feel the truck trembling and shuddering around them. He could hear the sound of a tearing metal, screams and echoes of the dying shielding. Loud noise and rising stench of burning metal and ozone didn’t matter anymore. He was with Marie. She was sitting on his lap, her thighs cradling his and her fingers combing through his hair. There was no need for words. Everything had been said before.

When they more heard than saw the first Screamer getting through the floor of the cab he grasped a firm hold of her, taking her lips to a searing kiss, blue mist swirling around them, vaporizing everything at its wake.

Few moments later there was nothing left. Nothing but a metal skeleton, coated with blue substance. Wind picked up, driving the sand forward, starting the burial ceremony.