”Keep away from them, Marie!” Angry shout and girl scooted away from ragged group of men, retreating hastily to the front porch of the ramshackle hut where her father stood. Her father, tall and strong blacksmith of the village cast disgusted look towards the group before pushing Marie back inside and following her.

“Who were they, daddy?” She asked when they sat in front of the fireplace and he took out bowls, scooping generous amounts of stew for both of them from a pot hanging above the crackling fire. She had seen the group of black clad men from a distance. Once they got in to the village she was drawn to them like moth to the flame. They were first visitors in years. First strangers she had ever seen.
“Destroyers. On their way to the front line. They spend the night in here and leave by morning. I don’t want you to go out before they’re gone.”

Destroyers. Word send shivers down her spine. Nana had told stories about them. Wild creatures. Unclean creatures. No more than animals. Nana had seen one Destroyer when she had been just a little girl from a distance.
“Runaway. They were carting it back to outpost. Vicious looking. Saw nightmares of it weeks after…” Nana had finished her story and rubbed her arms as if she was cold.

“Daddy? Will you stay in tonight?” She was a bit scared. She was used to that her father worked late, often through the whole night, but tonight was different. Anything could happen when Destroyers were in the village.
“No. I have to finish those cartwheels Murdoch ordered week ago. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. They won’t come in to the shop. And I’m sure they are well guarded. Now… Eat up and wash the dishes. Don’t stay up late…” Her father said standing up and ruffling her hair before leaving. She could hear him locking the door.

He sat down slowly and scratched his neck against a wooden support pillar. Sand had gotten under the suppression collar, and it was chafing. He tried to lie down comfortably, but it was impossible. There was a heavy metal band around his waist, and his hands were shackled to it to his backside. He sighed, kneeled on the floor and lowered his body on top of his thighs, head propped against the hard floorboards. It was a bit awkward position, ass sticking up in the air and he would wake up from a puddle of drool, but he had learned from experience it was the safest way to slumber. Easy and fast to get back on your feet in case of emergency. Others of his kind were also lying down around him.

He could feel small feet scurrying all over his skin. Lice. Not harmful, but unbelievable uncomfortable. His clothes were swarming with them. He had asked one of the Guards to shave his head to keep them off from his face. Guard had shaken his head. They weren’t paid to do that. That was a job for a Mechanic.

Well, it wasn’t that bad. At least he had gotten food. Guards had driven their little troop mercilessly forward for week now, allowing them mere hours of rest and only enough nutrients and water to keep them functioning. He knew he would pay for the meat and bread little later with nasty internal cramps, but now he was in a blissful state. Little uncomfortable, but warm and with full belly. With a promise of one night undisturbed sleep.

She had washed the dishes, and sat in front of the fireplace reading. Something Nana had taught her before she died few years ago. Not many could do that anymore. There were only three other persons in the whole village that could read. Her father, storekeeper Simmons and reverend Uphill. Books were hard to find, but every now and then Simmons ordered them to his store. His father would buy one, read it, and if it was suitable, give it to Marie.

This one wasn’t so interesting. It was a serious book for adults who liked long and hard words, but she was reading it anyway, to train her brain. And to keep her mind occupied. She had tried to go to sleep, but as soon as she closed her eyes she started hearing things. At one point she had been dead-on sure somebody was sneaking around in the kitchen. Impossible. There was no way anybody but her father could get in, but the thought of strangers in the village, Destroyers, made her jumpy and paranoid. So she had taken the book from the shelf and started reading it.

Shit. Should have known not to drink that water. But it had tasted so good, and he had been so thirsty. Now his bladder was full, nearly bursting from the pressure, and he would have to get up and ask one of the Guards to help him. They weren’t exactly thrilled if their charges didn’t stay put after bedtime. More than once he had bought the right to answer to nature’s call with a split lip or bruised ribs.

Crap. There was no way out of this. He would wet himself if he didn’t get out soon. It wasn’t much better option. He still remembered the treatment they had given him when he had caught an infection. He had been literally unable to hold, and Guards had gotten a field day with him, taunting, kicking and beating until all he could do was to lie on a broken, bloody heap on the ground. They had taken the suppression collar off to let him heal from it, and his mutation had taken care of the infection, too.

He scooted on his knees and wrinkled his nose. His left cheek had fallen asleep, and it was tingling. He scratched it against the wooden support beam next to him before standing up. Slowly. Slow, careful movements. Head and shoulders bent, eyes cast to the ground. He wanted to squirm and run, but all he could do was to wait until somebody noticed him and allowed him to speak.

“What the fuck do you want, Wolverine?” Higgins. He suppressed a relieved sigh. Higgins was a hard man, but he was a decent man. Not like the other Guards.
“I need to take a leak.” Voice sounded funny coming out of him. It had been weeks since he had last spoken.
“Okay… You know the drill…” Higgins sighed and jiggled the keychain, urging him to step closer.

Higgins had freed his right hand and stood behind him, heavy rifle cocked and ready, pointing at him. He didn’t mind. He would have done the same. Higgins knew what he was capable of. He had seen up close the end result of carelessness.
“Ready?” Higgins asked.
“Not yet…” He had already peed for what felt like an hour.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say your mutation was the ability to produce urine. Come on, Wolverine! I don’t have all night…” Higgins was nagging, but he could hear from his voice that the Guard was in a good mood, so he dared to press his luck a bit.
“Could you… Could you let me wash myself?”

She was going nuts. Crazy, like that farmer from out of town. Hearing voices when there was nobody but her at home. She checked the kitchen for the fifth time, finding it neatly organized and empty, just as she left it after washing the dishes. She had discarded the book and just sat in front of the fire, enjoying the warmth and slightly distracting, crackling sounds that it made.
“He’ll be home soon, and I can go to sleep…” She whispered, yawning widely. She knew she was wrong. Her father wouldn’t come home soon. He would be back by morning, reeking of hot metal and coals, dog-tired.

Finally she couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to get out of the house. She decided to go to her father’s shop. She could sleep there. There she would be safe, and she wouldn’t keep hearing strange noises over the banging and clatter of her father’s hammer. He would be angry, but what could happen to her if she run straight to there? It was just around the corner. All she had to do was to go through the marketplace and she would be safe.

“Thanks. Thanks for this,” Wolverine stuttered, not believing his good luck. Higgins had scratched his neck for a while, pondering his question.
“Well, you sure could use some soap and water. Hell, all you guys could. I think I saw a well at the marketplace earlier. Place should be empty at this time of night. But remember… Try anything and I put a hole through your gut…” Higgins had said and guided him to the right direction. Soap. Real soap and clean water. Higgins had taken off his shackles and kept the rifle aimed at him. Wolverine stretched his back and shoulders. Discarded his filthy clothes and admired the small white rectangular on his palm. Size of a matchstick box. Little piece of heaven.
“Go on,” Higgins urged him, slightly amused.

He worked up generous amount of lather after downing a bucket of water over his filthy body. His skin was tingling and bristling. Soap had a peculiar, sharp scent. He tossed a surprised glance to Higgins.
“Fuck, I know what it’s like. To reek like a fucking piece of shit and feel all kinds of itsy bitsy critters crawling all over you. We arrive to the outpost tomorrow, I can restock my pack there,” man said. Higgins had given him his own soap. Not the crap they usually gave to field units. Real stuff, the kind that helped to get rid of grime, filth and vermin.
“Higgins… Thanks.” His throat constricted alarmingly, so he shut his mouth and eyes and started to clean his head.

He was scrubbing his clothes clean with what was left of the soap. Suddenly he stopped and tilted his head. Higgins nodded.
“I smell it, too. Smoke.” He turned to look to the other side of the marketplace.
“Blacksmith. His shop is on fire.”
“Shit. You’re right, Wolverine,” Higgins said, taking a hesitant step towards the shop.
“Two people inside,” Wolverine said. Higgins looked torn. He looked towards the shop. Black smoke curled up from the chimney. No outward sign of roaring flames yet. He looked at Wolverine. Only mild curiosity shone from Destroyer’s eyes. Granted, Wolverine was the most humane from the group they were guarding, but he wasn’t a human being. Metal collar around his neck was silent testimony of his true nature.
“Want to be a hero?” Higgins asked. Wolverine shrugged his shoulders. Higgins reached for the small electronic device on his belt. It would cut the current from Wolverine’s collar.

“If I turn it off, what will you do?” He asked. Wolverine tilted his head.
“I’m not going to gut you, if that’s what you’re thinking of. You’re one of the nicest of these bastards herding us.” It was enough. Higgins pushed a button. Wolverine groaned and stretched his shoulders. Took deep breaths. And looked suddenly all too strong and tall for Higgins’ taste.
“You want me to get them out?” Wolverine asked, nodding towards the shop that was nearly completely engulfed by flickering flames.
“Go!”

If he got lucky, he would burn bad enough. Bad enough to slip the collar off from around his neck. So he didn’t try to find the safest possible route to the back of the shop. He deliberately chose the hard way, going through scorching inferno, letting it fry his body. When he reached his destination, the actual forge, he was stripped to his skeleton. Nearly unable to move, bleeding profusely.

Blacksmith was no more than a charred corpse sprawled over the forge. His daughter, a little girl that had observed them earlier that day, was hiding in the far corner shielding her face and body from the heat.

Had he stopped to think, he would probably acted differently. But in the back of his mind he knew he didn’t have much time left before Higgins got suspicious. He grabbed a firm hold from his collar and yanked it upwards. It slid off easily. He threw it away, grabbed the girl and run out from the back door. Girl was screaming. At first he thought she was just scared of his hideous appearance, metal skeleton covered with bits and pieces of burnt flesh, but soon he realized she was crying out of pain. Metal on top of his bones was slowly cooling down, but it was still too hot for new flesh to grow over it, no matter how hard his mutation tried to heal the damage he had taken. That meant that he had to be burning her with his touch.

He placed the girl to the ground. Now he could hear voices, screaming and shouting. They were approaching rapidly. He could hear Higgins cursing loudly. Somebody had probably told him that the shop had a backdoor. Last glance to the crying girl. He had burned her. Clothes on her were charred. Skin and flesh underneath was bloody, blistered mess.
“I’m sorry, kid. Take care of yourself,” He whispered before fleeing to the night.

Ten years ago Marie had manifested, early age of nine. Accidentally killed her father, and unknowingly helped a Destroyer to escape. She managed to hide her mutation for three years, before another accident exposed her, and she was forced to flee from her home. She had been drifting along the caravan route, doing odd jobs along her way, supporting herself for the best of her abilities. That’s how she ended up standing behind a bar, an apron tied to her waist, room full of drunken customers to keep an eye for and serve liquor.

In a weird way she was grateful for the severe scars she carried all over her body, a reminder of the night her father died. They gave her a plausible excuse to keep covered from head to toe in all climates. As soon as Marie told her employers about the fire, how her fathers forge had mysteriously exploded and she had gotten burnt, they didn’t question her will to wrap up to several layers of cloth.

“A beer.” Order was grunted so low and hushed tone Marie barely heard it. There was nothing low and hushed in the man that had spoken. He was one of the fighters, part of the entourage that drifted from settlement to another, fighting for money against anything and anybody willing. Tall, dark, broad-shouldered and unusually hairy. Most drifters shaved off everything except their eyebrows to keep of lice and other vermin. This one had thick, dark hair with wild, earlike peaks on it, really old-fashioned muttonchops, and what she had seen from the cage, thick rug of chest hair that trailed low on his stomach, disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. Most of the fighters were loud and obnoxious, showering her with rude comments and even ruder proposals, but this one opted to stay silent, night after night. Just sitting there and downing beer after beer, like there was no tomorrow.

She placed the bottle in front of him, and flinched back when another customer tried to grab her hand. Marie could have sworn that she heard the fighter growl low in his throat before his hand latched to the one that had tried to grab her.
“Didn’t know she was taken. Sorry about that, Logan,” other man said retreating. The one he had called Logan, the one that had ordered the beer, just sat there, staring blindly at the bottle in front of him.
“Thanks,” she nodded and chucked another bottle in front of her savior. Man just shrugged, gulping down the first one and taking the one she had just given under his scrutiny.

Rest of the night flew by without incidents. Just the usual banter and lewd comments, but nobody tried to grab her anymore. She delivered what they ordered and kept replacing Logan’s empty bottles with new ones.

“How the hell do you do it?” Marie wondered out loud when she eyed the pile of the empty beer bottles she had put aside. Bar was closed, she was alone, and she had the time to observe her surroundings. She had kept putting Logan’s bottles to an empty bin, conveniently placed on her side of the counter at the same spot he used to sit on the other side. There must have been enough bottles to put at least five big men under the table. Yet she had seen Logan when he was leaving, and he hadn’t even been tipsy. She shrugged. Some people knew how to hold their liquor. She let it slip out of her mind and grabbed a broom.

Floor was littered with broken glass, small scraps of paper and bottle caps. As Marie got closer to the cage, sweeping from corners to the center, she started to encounter different variety of trash. Wads of cotton. Bloodied rags. Small, broken vials. Rolls of tape. Even syringes.

She really didn’t want to think about what went down in that cage, when fighters were in. She closed her eyes and ears and sold booze. Marie knew she could have gotten obscenely rich in no amount of time if she used the knowledge she had gained by listening the fighters. If she wanted, she could have made a few bets, and leave this place for good. But she was quite sure she didn’t want that kind of money. She wasn’t that desperate yet. Most of the fights ended when there was one conscious and one unconscious fighter in the cage. But some of those ended with one alive and the other dead. And she was dead-on sure she couldn’t have accepted any amount of money over a cold corpse.

Next night, next round of fights and drinks. But it was a different night for Marie. It was the anniversary. The night of the fire. Many years she had spent this night remembering, curled to a tiny, sobbing heap, but few years ago it had gotten easier. And tonight she was working. Moody, ready to burst to tears at any moment, but she had figured she couldn’t keep regretting for the rest of her life about something she had no power over.

It seemed to be a different night for Logan, too. Marie had labeled him permanently depressed, but he seemed to be on a chipper mood. She even managed to catch him smile occasionally. Other fighters were on a foul, bitter mood, throwing dirty glances at his direction.
“It’s not natural…”
“…Berserk. Saw how he just shrugged it off?”
“Like it was nothing.”
“…Kept beating…”

“You’re on a good mood tonight. Who pulled that rod off from your ass?” Marie asked. Logan just smirked and shrugged his shoulders.
“Nobody. It’s a good night. Give me another one.” Usually he drank beer, but now he had been ordering whiskey.
“Coming right up. What are you celebrating?” She asked, filling his glass. Logan tossed it back like it was water.
“I don’t know. Freedom?” He grumbled and pointed at the empty glass. She refilled it.
“Freedom?”
“Nothing. Nothing really. Just been a good day, and good night. Made a few bets, won them, and tomorrow I’m going to kiss this cruddy, fucked up circus good-bye. Got my own wheels, and a place to stay. Life is good.”
“I’m glad everything worked out for you…” Marie muttered hurrying to hand out a tray filled with beer bottles before returning to him.
“You’re in a crappy mood. Who shoved that rod up in your ass?” Logan asked.
“Nobody. Has been a crappy day. But I’m happy for you,” she tried to force a smile on her face. She really was genuinely happy for everybody who could take off on their own; free to do as they pleased, where ever they wanted to do it.

Logan didn’t know what made him linger after the closing hour. What made him stalk in the shadows and follow her. She was just a bartender. Friendly face in the crowd. Source of booze. But something had been off during the whole evening, buzzing just out of his range. His gut had tried to tell him something, and Logan tended to listen to his gut. It hadn’t been wrong before. When he heard a scuffle, and something being hit from behind the corner he knew it hadn’t failed him this time either.

He recognized them immediately. A man that had tried to grab the bartender two nights ago. And that bartender, small and fragile looking thing, slouched on the ground. Man spat on her.
“I’m not good enough? Huh? Is that what this is about? Let me tell you something about this Logan of yours…” Logan heard the man hiss. For a moment he pondered his options. He could just walk away. After all, he was leaving tomorrow. He could turn around, forget all of this and walk away. Then man crouched next to her, yanking her head up from her hair, making her whimper, and option of leaving was taken out from him. He recognized that whimper.

When he finally made his move she was out cold, unconscious, so he didn’t have to worry. Claws were itching just under the surface of the skin between his knuckles. Logan waited until he got the full attention of her assailant. Then let razor-sharp extensions slowly inch out from his hands. Three from each hand, nine inches long and curving. Claws shimmered in the moonlight.
“I knew it…” Man huffed just before Logan sunk those claws to his stomach, splitting tissues like they were made out of butter.
“A mutie…” Man gasped, light of life flickering and blinking in his eyes before turning off completely.
“Wrong. Two of them,” he corrected the dead man and scooped the bartender’s limp form to his arms.
“When I told you to take care of yourself, this wasn’t exactly what I meant…” He whispered scanning their surroundings before taking a long route to the warehouse where he kept the truck he had won earlier.

The bartender was still unconscious when Logan reached the warehouse, but he couldn’t smell any serious injuries on her, just some cuts and bruises. Again he was left with a difficult choice. Should he leave her here, where she clearly had a life of sorts, or should he take her with him. Both options had their pros and cons. But her safety weighed more on his scale than her possible discomfort. Logan eased her from his lap to the passenger’s side of the truck, securing her there with a seatbelt. She had been the sole reason that he had managed to escape all those years ago. He should at least try to repay that somehow.

He expected her to bolt and scream when she came back to her senses. Instead she just opened her eyes, took in her surroundings and stayed still.
“Hi. I took care of that bastard. Couldn’t leave you there. You were pretty out of it,” Logan explained, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
“Okay. What are you going to do? Do you expect some sort of compensation for your troubles?” She asked.
“No. But I was in a hurry and couldn’t leave you there alone.”
“Could you let me out? I can walk back from here… I guess…” Marie said, gazing through the dusty windows.
“Hell, no. We have been driving over an hour. I’ll give you a lift to the next outpost.”
“And what am I supposed to do there? I’m grateful that you helped me, but all my stuff is back in my place, including money.”

Shit. He hadn’t really thought about this. Then something made him open his mouth again.
“You could tag along with me for a while.”
“And do what?” She asked.
“I need somebody I can trust. A clean person,” he said, hoping she would catch his meaning.
“If I let you fuck me, what’s in it for me?” She asked.
“Food. Clothes. Protection. A ride to where I’m going.”
“And what happens after we get there?” She asked.
“Haven’t thought about it yet,” Logan grunted. She sat in silence for a while.
“I have some scars…” Marie started.
“I don’t care.”
“And I haven’t done anything before,” she said.
“I haven’t either,” Logan confessed.

He had manifested young. Army had caught him. Destroyers were kept on a tight leash. Chemically neutered. Nobody wanted more muties in this world. And after he had escaped he hadn’t really been able to trust people enough to allow anybody to invade his personal space.

Marie wasn’t sure of what to think. Had she actually made a deal? Agreed to whoring herself to the man sitting next to her? And how the hell was she planning to go through with it without either revealing her status as a mutant or killing him in the process?
“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” She started, unsure how to continue.
“Fuck. I’m not going to rape you. If you don’t feel like it, the deal’s off. I just… It was just a thought. You feel like I could trust you. And you don’t look sick or anything… Shit. Just forget it,” Logan huffed.

Logan was actually relieved. He didn’t know what had made him offer that deal for her in the first place.
“Could you still give me a ride to the next settlement?” Marie asked timidly.
“Yeah. I’ll help you to find a ride back home after we get there. Someone decent.” Decent?
“You have got to be kidding me…” She muttered low under her breath. Logan’s gaze snapped from the road to her face, one eyebrow cocked in a questioning manner.
“Sounded a bit strange, coming out from the same mouth as the not so decent proposal earlier.”
“I already told you to forget it,” he quipped harshly.

They reached the next settlement after three hours ride along the bumpy caravan route. And it soon became apparent that wasn’t a place to be if you were a mutant. Place was crawling with Hunters and groups of Destroyers with their Guards.

Logan parked the truck to a back alley of a bar, cursing softly. His passenger was shifting on her seat nervously, taking quick glances from their surroundings. Probably afraid of the furious looking Destroyers.
“How about we get the fuck out of here. Right now. It’ll be another day before we reach the next settlement, but…” He started, when Marie suddenly grabbed his arm, face pale and ashen.
“Drive!” She shouted. He took a glimpse from the rearview mirror and hit the gas. Group of Hunters were approaching the truck.

“Christ! That was close!” Logan hissed after they had left the settlement and the Army behind them. To Marie he looked a tad bit too relieved.
“I won this truck in a fight. This baby is probably stolen from the Army…” He muttered an explanation. Marie nodded. Of course. For a moment she had thought… No. There were no free mutants, aside her. She was the only one. Alone.
“What were they doing this far from the battlefield?” She asked. Logan shrugged.
“They were probably on their way to the outpost. Fresh from the assembly line.”
“Assembly line?” Marie asked puzzled.
“Not all muties have aggressive mutations. They need enhancements. Implants and other crap like that. That’s where the good doctors step in. Screw up their heads and then screw up their bodies. I thought everybody knew that.”
“I know only what Nana told me once, when I was just a kid. And I saw Destroyers years ago…” She said, and then quieted.
“They’re just people. Fucked up in the head, but just people like you and me.”
“Daddy used to say that people who spoke like that should be sent to the battlefield with muties.”
“What about your mom?” Logan asked.
“She died when I was born. Daddy never spoke about her. I don’t even know what she looked like.”

They drove in silence for a while. Scenery around them was barren. Rocks and sand. Small white patches here and there. Salt.
“How do you seem to know so much about Destroyers?” Marie suddenly asked. Again Logan shrugged.
“I’m a good listener. Been hearing rumors. Don’t know if they are for real, but hey… Mutants begin the same as all the others. They have a family. Every one of those Destroyers has been a kid at some point. Playing around with other kids. I don’t think they are any more evil or tainted as the rest of the population. But that’s just my opinion. Feel free to disagree.”

She sat in stunned silence for a while. Mulling over her options. She had never done it. Never, ever in her life. Finally she braved herself.
“I’m a mutant.” There. Now she said it. She cringed when Logan took his foot from the gas and let the truck roll to a halt, before turning to look at her.
“I know. I could smell it on you when I carried you out from your dad’s forge.”

“You… No. I don’t know how I got out of there, but…” Marie stammered.
“I was a Destroyer. Our group stayed at your village that night. One of the guards sent me to get you out from there. I got so badly burned that I managed to slip off my collar before I carried you out. You got your scars from me. My bones are covered with metal. It got so hot that it burned you.”
“No.”
“And I bet I can tell exactly where, and what shape of scars you have.”
“No.”
“One on your side. A big one. Like a row of ribs. Couple on your back. Thin line across the whole back. That one you got from my arm. Another smaller on your lower back. Small, round. My kneecap when I kneeled to put you down.”
“No…”
“Handprints on your left shoulder and both arms. One on your stomach.”
“Stop talking!” Marie screamed and covered her ears with her palms.
“And you saw these.” Logan raised his right hand and let claws out. Small gasp escaped from her.

She hadn’t realized that the creature that had saved her was a Destroyer. Not before she had seen the backs of his hands, metal gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. At first she hadn’t comprehend what she was seeing, but later the image had returned to her mind. Under the bleeding mess of burnt and charred tissue had lain a set of knives.

“It was you…” She whispered. Logan nodded.
“But how… Why… You don’t look burnt?” Marie said, reaching with her gloved hand, placing it to the unmarred skin of his cheek.
“I heal. That’s my mutation. I heal and have enhanced senses. What’s yours?”
“Poison skin. People get hurt if they touch my bare skin,” she confessed.
“That’s why you didn’t want to make that deal?” Logan asked. She nodded.
“I think we should make a deal anyway… Not that kind of deal,” he hurriedly exclaimed when Marie’s gaze darkened.

“How about if we stick together? I have a feeling we would get along just fine. I have enough money to support us both, and I could use some company. Have been on my own since I escaped, and I’m sick and tired of it.”
“And my part of the deal?” Marie asked.
“Stay with me. Talk with me.”
“That’s all? In return of clothes, food and protection?” Marie asked, not believing her ears.
“That’s all. We have a deal?” Logan asked. She nodded quickly.
“Good.”
“Uh… About that food…” Marie said when her stomach reminded that it had been nearly twenty hours since she had last eaten. Logan opened his door.
“All the stuff is in the back. I’ll get you something,” he said.

“Wasn’t really planning to travel with anybody. This’ll have to do until we get to the next settlement…” Logan said, climbing back in and tossing a small packet of dried meat and a bottle of water to her lap. Sight of dry, nearly black strips of meat made Marie’s mouth water. Meat. She hadn’t eaten it for months. It was simply too expensive.
“Is this… Can I have all of this?” She asked, staring at the small plastic pouch, not daring to touch it.
“Eat it. It’s better than nothing,” Logan said. He didn’t have to tell it to her twice. She tore in to the package and was stuffing the leathery strips to her mouth like they were file fit for a king.

Logan felt a little bad about his earlier slip up, his stupid proposal of a different kind of deal. She was starving, and she would have probably given in, spread her legs to him for food. That wasn’t a way to form a lasting bond between them. And Logan wasn’t going to settle to anything less. Be it friendship or deeper relationship, he was going to keep her with him. He had been alone long enough.

Marie finished her meal and wiped her mouth to the back of her hand, slouching back on her seat. Her stomach had shrunk during her years on the road, and those few scraps she had eaten were enough to fill it completely. She closed her eyes.
“Thank you…” She managed to whisper before she dozed off.

She woke up few hours later. Truck wasn’t moving. Logan was sleeping, too, relaxed on his seat. It was dark. For some reason it was dark. Marie glanced at the clock on the dashboard. She could have sworn it was close to nightfall, but in reality it was barely past noon.
“Sandstorm. Should pass us soon. We’ll get going as soon as I can see the road again,” Logan murmured, shifting on his seat.

When weather cleared and they could see again, it became apparent that they were going absolutely nowhere. They were surrounded by a group of Hunters.

Collared and shackled. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He wanted to puke. To curl up and die. All too familiar sensation of nausea settled to the pit of his stomach when collar shut down his mutation. It would take several days from Logan to adjust to the feeling of aging again. For a moment he toyed with the idea of jumping out from the moving truck. If he was lucky, he would snap his neck when he fell, and everything would be over. Then Logan got a good look from his passenger’s face. Girl was scared out of her wits, yanking and tugging her chains, trying to get her hands to the collar around her neck. Logan knew what would happen if she didn’t stop soon.

“Stop it. Stay put and don’t let out a peep,” he hissed hastily when one of the Guards escorting the Hunters turned to look at her. She stilled. Logan took in his surroundings before scooting stealthily next to her, leaning his head against her shoulder.
“Stay still. Keep your mouth shut. Move and talk only when you are told to. And don’t try to resist. What ever they decide to do, act along,” he whispered, begging silently that nobody saw him speaking to her. They would be both punished for that.
“They are going to take us to the outpost. I’m already modified, and I’m guessing you don’t even need modifications with that mutation of yours. Most likely they will beat up us both, sooner or later. They are going to do it as many times as it takes to break us. What ever they want you to do, do it. You can’t take that kind of beating…”
“What about you?” Marie whispered. Little too loudly. Quick glance told Logan nobody heard it. They had lucked out.
“I’ll be just fine. I know the drill. Now just shut up and stay out of trouble. Don’t draw attention to you…” He hissed before standing up and charging towards the group of Hunters and Guards that sat at the far end of the lorry.

It had been a stupid thing to do. Guards had stopped the truck, pushed him down from the lorry and beaten him to pulp. Yet Logan grinned from ear to ear when they threw him back up and truck started again. Marie didn’t utter a word, but the look on her face spoke volumes. Scared, disgusted, panicked. Logan winked with his still functioning eye.
“They have to take my collar off eventually… Can’t let me die… Too expensive modifications…” He gurgled, spitting out blood and couple of chipped tooth.
“Hush… They’re coming…” Truck had stopped again.

Just as Marie thought things wouldn’t get any weirder, Logan started to sing. Off-key, with some strange language, and very loud. Guards hopped on the lorry, eyeing him disgusted.
“Cut that out.” When that didn’t shut Logan’s mouth, they tried another tactic. One of them took a firm hold from Marie’s hair and pointed a gun to her head.
“Shut up or the bitch bites it.” Logan’s voice got only louder. Guard sighed and shoved her away.
“Face it, Higgins… You can’t trick me… Either shut me up for good, or listen while…” Marie screamed when a gun went off.

“Can’t you do anything right!” Guard that Logan had called Higgins shouted, snagging a smoking rifle from the hands of another, much younger Guard.
“Are you willing to pay from your salary if he dies?” Higgins grunted, then reached for his belt.

Logan lay on a pool of blood that was rapidly spreading. His stomach was a torn mess of lacerated flesh and innards. Explosive ammunition, and it had struck him at close range, nozzle of the rifle nearly touching his stomach. Marie could see his eyes moving rapidly under his closed lids. At least he was still alive. She heard a small click, and Logan’s whole body shuddered. Wounds and bruises on him started to heal immediately. Guard had turned off his collar. And suddenly Logan spoke.
“Stay down, kid.”

“What happened?” They were running. Marie could hear Logan panting behind her, feel his hands on her back, nudging her almost gently to the direction he wanted her to go. She had closed her eyes when Logan had told her to stay down. For a moment screams and nearly deafening gunfire had filled the air, then complete silence fell. Logan had scooped her up and dropped her to the ground, following her and they had started running.
“What happened?” Marie asked again. And again she felt Logan’s hands on her back. She couldn’t keep running anymore, but it soon became apparent she didn’t have to. Logan’s hands grasped her shoulders and they both fell, Logan on top of her, knocking the air out from her lungs momentarily.

Something wet and sticky was spreading to her back. Logan had her efficiently trapped, both sets of claws out, embedded firmly to the dry ground to both sides of her head. He was heavy. He wasn’t moving. And that sticky, wet and warm feeling on her back was growing. Coppery stench was filling her nostrils.
“Oh… Shit…” Marie heard him grunt.
“Logan?”
“Yeah… Wait a sec…” She could feel his muscles tensing. Logan gasped, and claws slid back in. Wounds that they left started to bleed.
“Logan?”
“Yeah, yeah… Just give me a minute… I know I’m heavy…” He muttered. Marie could feel him shifting.
“Logan!”
“What! …Shit…” He finally managed to crawl off from her. She rose on her hands and knees and turned to look at him.

“I got them all… Except that fucking driver… Higgins managed to turn the collar back on before I…” Logan’s body was riddled with bullet holes. Some had gone straight through, leaving behind small, clean and round holes. Not all bullets had done that. There were three deep crater-like holes on his torso. Two on his stomach, one near his collarbone, each big enough to stuff a good-sized fist in it.

“Driver’s probably called back-up… Go. Keep running to that direction… I’ll make sure they have something else to do than chase you,” Logan hissed, trying to sit up. His eyes rolled back to his head and he fell back to the ground, unconscious.
“I’ll run, alright. But not in to that direction…” Marie muttered, glancing briefly towards the open desert Logan had pointed her. Then stood up and started to run towards the truck she could see glimmering in the distance.

Setting sun cast reddish hue over the scenery. She was tired and her throat was parched when she reached the truck. Driver stepped out from the cabin, aiming at her with his rifle. Man was pale as a ghost and trembled out of fear.
“Stay away from me!” He shouted. Marie lifted her hands above her head.
“I didn’t come for you,” she assured.
“Just keep the fuck away from me!” Man nearly screamed when she took a step towards the truck. He was practically foaming from the mouth. He was in a full-blown panic.
“I just want to help my friend. I came to get something…” Marie started and took another cautious step towards the truck. Man let out an agonized wail and with a sudden movement turned the rifle another way around, taking the nozzle to his mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut when his finger curled around the trigger.

Sight that greeted Marie when she climbed to the lorry made her gag. Logan had torn through Guards and Hunters like a whirlwind. Severed heads and limbs. Sticky strands of organs and intestines. Pools of blood. And flies. She tried to locate the Guard Logan had called Higgins. Relatively easy task if corpses had been intact, but it took her a while to find the right torso. Finally she found him. Resisting the urge to retch she grabbed the belt that still hung around the remains of the Guard, turning the corpse over on a slippery surface until she found the gadget she had come to look for.

It wasn’t until she had gathered enough food and water to a backpack she found before it hit her. At the time she would get back to Logan, he would most likely be dead. He probably was dead already. Dead, with flies buzzing in and out of his wounds, glassy eyes staring unseeing to the sky.
“Fuck it. I kill him if he’s dead. After all I did… He wouldn’t dare to die on me, right?” Marie tried to brace herself. Lump in her throat was about the size of the truck’s tire and tears stung in her eyes. She adjusted the backpack and started to run again.

She stumbled over something. Sun had set, and she hadn’t have sense enough to find a flashlight. Marie rubbed her knee and cursed softly.
“Kid?” Weak whisper came from the lump she had stumbled upon. Logan. And he was still alive!
“I found the switch. Hang on. You’ll get better soon,” Marie stammered and rummaged through the backpack, trying to find the device she had taken from Higgins.
“The fuck are you doing… I told you to get lost…” Logan hissed. Marie could feel his hand clamping around her ankle.
“Driver was too scared to sound the alarm. He shot himself when I got there. I found this…” She said pressing the button from the small box she had taken from Higgins.
“And some food and water.” Logan’s grip on her ankle tightened suddenly and she could hear him draw shuddering breath.
“I was wondering what took them so long…” Marie heard him grunt and he sat up. She could see faint outlines of his hunched figure in the darkness.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
“I will be… Ow!”

She had scrambled on his lap, nearly smothering him to her embrace. Logan tried feebly to untangle her hands around him, but it was too much of an effort. So instead he sat still, bringing his arms around her and trying to catch his bearings.
“I have to breathe,” He reminded her, chuckling softly. Logan couldn’t remember anybody being so glad over him being alive ever. She was practically tearing his clothes in her frantic need to see and feel the proof that he really was all right. Small delicate hands ran over newly healed skin, making him squirm.
“That tickles,” Logan said, taking a hold of her wrists.
“You really are alright,” Marie sighed, hiding her face to the crook of his neck. There was something wet and warm on her cheeks. Tears. She was crying.

“Why didn’t you run like I told you to?” Logan asked after she had calmed down and they were walking slowly towards the truck. He had reasoned that if all the Guards were dead, there was no reason for them to start walking. He could clear the truck from the bodies and they could start driving again.
“Would you have done it?” Marie asked. Logan cleared his throat and pulled her against his side, squeezing her shoulder.
“I wanted to. At first I was going to dive off from that lorry. Just to get away from them.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Couldn’t leave you there. Couldn’t let them fuck you up. But next time, when I tell you to run, you run. Is that clear?” When she didn’t answer Logan stopped walking and crouched in front of her.
“Is that clear? If anything happens, you fucking run. Or I could just skewer you right now, spare me the trouble of feeding you…” He grumbled, claws inching their way out from his knuckles.
“Alright! I promise to run!” Marie shouted. Logan’s brows knit together and he inhaled deeply through his nose.
“Liar,” he whispered, brushed a brief kiss to her forehead and stood up.

It took them a while to get the truck back to presentable condition, but it was well worth the effort. Logan found a key to their collars.
“I think I want to keep mine,” Marie said, stopping him before he opened the metal band adorning her neck.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Logan asked, swatted her hand away and opened the collar.
“You’re not going to keep this. No way,” he said sternly, throwing the collar out to the desert. She followed it with her gaze until it fell to the ground and sighed.
“Do you have any idea how much easier it would have made my life?” She asked.
“And do you have any idea how much easier it would have made for the Army to capture us?” Logan asked. Marie shook her head.
“They have tracking devices installed to those. Every fucking Guard and Hunter within ten kilometers radius would have located us. Now all they will find are those collars and few corpses.”
“Plus I don’t want to see that shit on you. Or on anybody for that matter. It makes me sick,” he added when they climbed in the truck.

“Hungry?” Marie asked, offering him an energy bar she had found. Logan took it little reluctantly. He needed to eat, but he felt a little queasy. He could still smell the blood. Feel the fragments of the bullets that hadn’t cleared from his system yet. He could practically taste the fear that had landed on him as soon as he had realized they had been caught. If it hadn’t been for his passenger…
“What’s your name, kid?” He asked.
“M… Marie. It’s Marie.” She spoke it little hesitantly. But she was telling the truth.
“Haven’t used it for a while?” He asked. He wasn’t really that interested, but he needed a diversion. Something to keep his mind off from what had happened.
“I left home when I was twelve. Started to call myself Rogue. Marie… It was something I left behind.” Her explanation was short but thorough. Too short. He had nearly eaten the bar and started the engine of the truck.
“Keep talking.”
“About what?” Marie asked.
“I don’t fucking care. Talk, sing, shout… Anything.” He started to tremble, and turned off the engine. He wouldn’t be able to drive. Not yet.

“Talk to me,” he was shivering so badly that his words came out a bit slurred.
“I don’t know what to talk about…” She started. Logan curled his arms around his sides and leaned his forehead to the steering wheel. His shoulders were heaving in the rhythm of his breathing. She couldn’t find words. Instead she scooted to his side and placed a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing gently. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and his trembling stopped. He stopped even breathing. Just sat there, stock-still. Thin sheen of perspiration had broken on his skin. She took a wild guess. Logan wasn’t liking very much at what she was doing. She pulled back her hand. Logan grabbed her wrist before she had the time to move out of his reach.
“Nice try. Appreciate it. Come here,” he gasped, pulled her on his lap and nearly smothered her with his embrace, burying his face to the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply.

He wasn’t crying, but she could tell from his rigid muscles and erratic breathing that it wouldn’t take much to make the tears fall. His skin against hers felt cold and clammy. That’s when she noticed it. He was touching her. Bare skin on skin, and nothing happened. He wasn’t writhing in pain. He wasn’t in her head screaming and spewing curses. She wanted to squeal from joy, clap her hands, bounce around and kiss him, but she just sat there, snuggling closer to him.

“We got away, right?” He finally asked, breath tickling her throat.
“We got away,” she affirmed. He loosened his hold from her and leaned back, eyes still closed.
“I fucking hate this…” He groaned, opening his eyes and offered her a weak smile. She answered to it with her own wild grin that spread from ear to ear.
“You touched me. You touched me and nothing bad happened.”
“Yeah. Noticed that earlier. At the desert. When you hugged me.”
“I touched you? Why didn’t you say something?” Marie asked.
“I thought you knew,” Logan said.

“Can I do something?” Marie asked shyly. Logan shrugged his shoulders, still slowly coming out of darkness that had tried to invade him. He had closed his eyes again. He could hear Marie tugging her gloves off. Then soft creak of the leather of their seat. Feel of warmth when she scooted on his lap. Hands on his face. Soft lips against his own. A kiss. His hands rose to her hair instinctively and he tried to respond, to deepen it.

What had started just as an innocent experiment, ended few minutes later. They were both flushed and panting.
“Wow…” They gasped almost simultaneously. Marie fumbled awkwardly off from his lap, keeping her eyes averted from his face.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Logan reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you. Nobody’s done that before. Felt great.” If he was completely honest, it felt better than great. At first he had thought that he was going to have a heart attack. Then that fluttery feeling from his chest had settled to the pit of his stomach, and wonderful feel of warmth and peace had flushed over him.
“Can I do it again? Maybe not now, but…” Marie asked.
“We can do that when ever you feel like it.”

“We’ll arrive to the settlement soon,” he said. He had been stealing quick glances of her from the corner of his eye, hoping she would ask him to stop. Hoping she would want to kiss him again. It had been a good feeling. He wanted to feel it again. Marie had been in turn dozing off, thick veil of her brown locks covering her face, and in turn keeping an eye on the scenery around them, delicate features of her face revealing nothing to his prying eyes. Logan didn’t have any sexual experience, save that one kiss with her, but his body seemed to know what was good and fit for him. Before their kiss he had seen her as a possible companion, somebody to spend time with, but now his attention was slowly turning to other possibilities.

She was fully clothed, but shirt and pants she wore were tight, outlining the form of her body. Slim legs and arms, toned stomach, narrow waist, and swell of breasts. Full lips. Eyes almost too big to her face. Small gap between her front teeth.

Bloodstains and small tears on her clothes. Bruised skin. Bloodstains and huge, jagged tears on his clothes.
“Shit,” he suddenly yelped. He could see the first huts of the settlement ahead and stopped the truck. Marie looked at him surprised.
“We have to change our clothes. Can’t go walking around in these rags,” Logan explained. There were many different styles to wear, but torn and bloodied was still the type to draw attention and raise unwanted questions.

“Here. I’ll go change outside,” Logan said, giving her the smallest shirt and jeans he could find from his bag. She waited until he closed the door of the truck before taking off her bloodstained shirt. For a moment she just held the shirt he had given to her, enjoying the feel of soft cloth. Shirt was old and worn, but it was clean. Black T-shirt. She pulled it on. It was too big for her, but she figured it didn’t matter. Nobody would look twice a girl wearing too big shirt. Jeans were too big. She had to roll up the sleeves to keep them dragging on the ground. She wondered if he would have a belt for her. If not, she would have to keep them up with her hands, and that would be awkward.

He changed his clothes quickly, donning a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. Rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. Ever since they had installed the claws in him, skin of his forearms had been especially tender. Not sore, not itching, but it felt like all the little nerves on it were somehow more alert than the rest of his skin. He knocked on the truck’s door. Waited until Marie shouted it was okay, she was fully dressed. Then climbed in.

“We have to get you some new clothes,” he said, taking in her appearance. She practically drowned to the shirt and jeans he had given to her.
“Yeah. But before that, you wouldn’t happen to have a belt?” She asked.
“What do you think?” Logan asked, cocking an eyebrow and turning to rummage through his bag once more. It wasn’t until now that she noticed the brown belt, and huge buckle that held it on place on his waist.
“But this will be too long for you unless…” Logan muttered. One claw slid out from his hand. He cut the belt in half, and then poked few new holes in it before handing it to her.
“Here.” She took it and looped it to her jeans, sighing from relief when it fit.

He tried his best not to look at the strip of the skin she had revealed when she had lifted the hem of the shirt to get the belt on its place. He had gotten a glimpse of pale skin, and even paler, hand shaped scar on her stomach. His hand had been there.
“Can I look…” He gestured towards her stomach. She fiddled with the hem of the shirt for a while, and then lifted it a bit. Clear, white imprint of his bones. Palm, five fingers. He placed his hand on top of it. She flinched a bit.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking… I just wanted that collar off and get out of there. I didn’t think that I was hurting you.” She didn’t say a word. He took a moment, just kept his hand on her and enjoyed the soft feel of warm, living surface. Usually touching for him was related to blood and violence. This was something different. And felt almost as good as their kiss earlier.
“Yeah. I’m sorry…” He grunted, taking his both hands to the steering wheel.

His hands had been hot. Hot as coals in her fathers forge. Now those same hands were warm. His palm felt good against her skin. She nearly stopped him when he retreated and started the engine, but swallowed her disappointment fast. No use to start something they weren’t ready to finish.

“This looks better…” Logan said when they stopped near the marketplace. Settlement was much smaller than the one they passed earlier. Only few permanent buildings, surrounded with small tents. Nothing that would draw the Army’s attention.

“Here. Get what you need. I meet you here in two hours. That okay?” Logan asked, giving her a thick wad of cash. She stared at it, mouth hanging open. There was more money she had seen during her whole life.
“Uh… Don’t you need any money?” She asked. Logan frowned.
“I told you I have enough for both of us. That’s yours. Spend it as you like.”
“But this is… There’s so much of it.”
“And it’s all yours. You have two hours. Then come back to the truck.”

Had Logan think things more thoroughly, their little shopping trip would have ended nicer way. But he wanted Marie to know he wasn’t expecting her to turn a pretty little whore over the money he gave to her, so he thought it would be wisest to let her go on her own and spend it as she liked. Bad idea. Very bad idea. He was beginning to realize it now. Standing in the crowd, in front of a wooden platform. Slave market. And Marie was somewhere up there, among the rest of the merchandise.

Marie had been walking around, rummaging through piles of clothes and small knick-knacks she thought she could use. Merchants sure had known their customers. After Marie had gotten everything she needed, she still had half an hour left before she was supposed to meet Logan at the truck. She had drifted little further from the main market area, in to a tent filled with jewelry. She had been admiring the rows of pendants and rings on display, when suddenly a bag was pulled over her head, and she could feel strong hands around her, dragging her somewhere. She had tried to fight. For that effort she had earned a sudden, but careful and calculated blow on the head. She had woken up shackled from a cage filled with women of all ages and shapes. She didn’t know what was more disturbing, the fact that all of them seemed to be mutants, or the grey metal suppression collar around their necks.

Woman after another got bought and walked away with their new owner. Logan had stood there, on the front row nearly an hour now, trying to locate Marie, after every successful trade hoping she would be the next one to walk on the stage. It didn’t happen. Instead auctioneer announced that trading would continue more privately. Only those with appropriate status would get to see the rest of the merchandise.

“Where is that other auction?” Logan asked from a man standing next to him. Man, elderly and white haired grimaced.
“You don’t want to go there, son. It’s not a place for decent folks…”
“What do you mean?” Logan asked.
“They sell muties,” old man said.
“I thought only Army had those… What are those for?” Old man rolled his eyes.
“You’re not too bright, son. Human slaves have rights. You can’t treat them anyway you like. But with muties… They’re just animals. Animals don’t have rights. I have heard they use them in fights. Instead of roosters they throw two muties in the cage…”
“Fuck.”
“That’s not all. I have heard some people use them to other things. Even take them to bed. Disgusting. Filthy. Who would want an animal, when… No. That is not a place for you, son. Stay out of it,” old man warned him, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing to the crowd.

They were herded like cattle, to their own private cages where they barely had the room to sit. At least their capturers had let them keep their clothes on. That wasn’t much of a consolation when Marie saw what was going to happen to them.

He had stalked quietly behind the auctioneer’s tent. He had found the man, negotiating with another. The other man didn’t look too pleased.
“That bitch you sold me last time didn’t last a week! I want my money back!” Burly looking farmer bellowed. Auctioneer shook his head.
“It isn’t my fault if you use too heavy hand. And thank God it was just a mutie. Have you thought about what would have happened if it had been human?” That seemed to calm the other man a bit.
“But I still want my money back. She wasn’t as durable as you promised…”
“No refunds. You break it, you pay it,” auctioneer said. Other man shook his head.
“Is that a way to treat a customer?”
“Who are you going to complain? It’s not like it’s legal to buy a mutant. They belong to Army. Every single one of them,” Auctioneer reminded his disgruntled customer. Man grimaced and turned to leave. Logan chose that moment to step out of his hiding place.
“And who the fuck are you?” Auctioneer asked. Logan waited until his customer had disappeared before speaking.
“Somebody who’s quite interested of that other auction of yours.”

“And what makes you so sure you meet all the necessary requirements? That one is not for all…” Auctioneer snorted. Logan crept closer and snagged a firm hold from the lapels of his jacket, pulling the shorter man up from the ground, face to face with him.
“You little prick have my wife in there. Think it’s good enough reason to let me in?” He growled, baring his teeth.
“Wife? I assure you, we do not sell humans in that auction!” Auctioneer sputtered.
“And who the fuck said she was human?” Logan asked, dropping the man to the ground, letting claws ooze out from his hands. Auctioneer gasped and tried to scramble away from him, but Logan stepped on his stomach and held him in place, leaning closer. Claws hovered above auctioneer’s groin.
“Can I please come and get my wife? She gets terribly upset if I start cutting people. And when she gets upset, I’ll get upset. And start cutting people. Vicious cycle. You can stop it. Let me in, I’ll take my wife home, and everybody’s happy. We have a deal?”

Stench of fresh urine wafted in the air. Auctioneer had peed in his pants. Logan grimaced.
“Listen, you little piece of shit… Let me put it another way. You give my wife back, and I won’t cut your jewels off,” he murmured. Auctioneer nodded quickly.
“Anything… Just let me go.”
“Good. Lead the way,” Logan said and pulled him on his feet.

Auctioneer led him to the outskirts of the little settlement, to a building that looked ready to keel over from the first gust of wind.
“We’ll go in from the back. That’s where we keep… That’s where she’ll be,” man explained, walking round the corner, Logan practically glued to his heels.
“You think you could stop poking me with those knives?” Auctioneer whined.
“No,” Logan grunted and let the dull edge of his claws slide over his back. Man gasped and cringed.

Crowd was cheering and shouting. Floor of the arena was already slippery from blood. Air was thick from smoke. Marie watched in horror when cage after cage mutants got thrown to the arena. Some of the cages were carted out. How the hell could she have been so careless and naïve? Getting caught in the middle of a day, in plain sight?

“She’s better be alright. If I find out you have cut a hair from her head, I’ll make sure none of you leaves this place alive…”
“No need to threaten me!” Auctioneer squeaked and opened the door with shaky hands.
“That wasn’t a threat. That was a promise,” Logan said. He nearly gagged when they stepped in. He could hear the noise from the other side of the wall. He could smell blood, shit and smoke. Auctioneer fumbled with something, and suddenly lights went on, revealing small backroom, packed full with small cages. Most of them were empty.
“We started early tonight. See if your wife is in there,” Auctioneer said, twitching nervously.

“How the fuck did you manage on your own all those years?” Familiar voice made her raise her head. Logan was crouching next to her cage, tired but relieved look on his face. His claws cut through the lock like it was made out of butter, and door of the cage flung open. She scooted out awkwardly. Her legs had fallen asleep and now they were itching and prickling.
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your little business in here. But if I see you again, you better run. I might change my mind later,” Logan hissed to a smaller man that stared at them before kneeling and scooping her to his arms.
“Come on, kid. Shopping trip is over. Which reminds me… Where is her stuff? I sent her to buy some clothes before you morons snatched her,” he said to the auctioneer. Man pointed to the corner of the room.
“Those are yours?” Logan asked, eyeing three bags with suspicion. Marie nodded tiredly. Logan picked them up and they walked out.

Auctioneer nearly fainted from relief and sat to a sturdy looking wooden crate, wiping his forehead to the sleeve of his jacket. He really should keep an eye on his employees. Really should. Because you never knew what kind of loonies might come after you if you picked up the wrong person.
“Hey!” Angry shout from the door made him jump and scream. That crazy mutie was back.
“Keys to her collar. Now.” Auctioneer rummaged through piles of papers and small knick-knacks strewn across the table next to him, found a set of electronic keys and threw them to Logan.

Logan was awfully quiet when they walked through buzzing and whirring marketplace. When they reached the truck, he opened the door, tossed her in with her purchases like a sack of potatoes and slammed the door shut so forcibly that the sound of it made her ears ring. For a moment he just stood outside, eyeing their surroundings and then climbed to the driver’s seat and started the truck.

She tried to make herself sparse, hide behind her bags. Logan’s grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white. He was staring holes to the windshield, small muscles on his cheeks and throat ticking and twitching. She didn’t have any idea to whom he was so furious. It was reasonable assumption that he was planning the best way to gut her and dispose her body. So when he stopped the truck in the middle of nowhere, after several hours of unnerving silence, she squeaked and scurried out, trying for the best of her abilities to outrun him. She knew it was futile. Even after the Guards had beaten and shot him, half dead, he had been faster than her, pushing her forward on the scorching desert. But her body couldn’t accept the defeat so easily. When he caught her and tackled her to the ground she started kicking and scratching.

It took her a while to realize nothing was happening. Logan just lay on top of her, carrying the weight of his upper body on his elbows, and stared at her.
“I guess I deserved that,” he said, scratches and gouges on his face healing rapidly.
“Aren’t you mad at me?” Marie asked. Logan shook his head.
“I’m mad at myself. I can’t believe I was so stupid that I let those bastards get their paws on you.”
“But I thought… You were so angry and didn’t talk and…”
“Hush,” Logan huffed and leaned closer. Close enough to brush her cheek with the tip of his nose. She could feel his chest expand when he inhaled.
“I made a mistake. Won’t happen again. I promise.”
“But…”
“Shut up. Can I kiss you?”

Their earlier kiss had been awkward, but sweet. Kiss they now shared was neither. It was hot, frantic and desperate, teeth gnashing together, hands grasping hair and clothing, feeding their inner forges until they were both moaning and squirming, needing more.
“Do you want to stop?” Logan asked when he came up for the air. He had to ask again before Marie realized he had actually spoken. It took a while to form a coherent answer.
“I know we should, this is so soon, but I don’t want to…”
“Good…” Logan muttered against her lips, one hand sliding under her shirt while other carried his weight. Marie was licking and nibbling his lips and it would have been practically impossible to stop.

Finally she managed to get off Logan’s shirt. Feel all that warm skin and rippling muscles underneath.
“Christ…” Logan hissed and shivered when she accidentally raked her nails over his forearms. Hard bulge that had been pressing against her thigh got suddenly considerably harder.

“This has to go…” Logan grabbed the hem of her shirt. She sat up so that he could slide it off from her. He laid it on the ground and lowered her back on top of it. For a moment he could just stare at her breasts. Two perfectly shaped globe, just the right size to fit under his palm. Nipples already hard, straining peaks.

He lowered his head and licked one nipple experimentally, then sucked it between his lips when she gasped and arched her back, clearly enjoying at what he was doing. All the while she was writhing and squirming he spent exploring the rest of her body with his free hand, sliding it over her skin, skimming lightly over curves and shivering muscles. Finally he encountered an obstacle. Waistband of her jeans.

“Can I…?” She heard Logan asking, and felt his fingers on her stomach, resting lightly on top of the belt that held up her jeans. She let out a nervous chuckle.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…” She whispered, meeting his amused gaze.
“You do realize this is new to me, too?” Logan asked. She nodded, completely serious, but burst to nervous giggles. Laughter was contagious. Soon they lay on their backs, side by side. Every time they tried to turn face to face they started giggling uncontrollably.

“Fuck. We’re pathetic,” Logan grunted.
“I agree. Maybe we should try less talking and more action?”
“And some other time. It’s getting cold,” Logan said, sitting up. Sun was setting. Temperature would drop soon. They stood up and shrugged their shirts back on.
“Come on. It’s safer to stay on the move during night. You can sleep while I drive,” he said, taking Marie’s hand to his own and they walked back to the truck. She stretched over the seat, placing her head on his thigh and sighed deep. In mere minutes she was asleep, one hand curled around his knee, other latched under his shirt, fingers curled to the waistband of his jeans. Scent of her arousal still lingered, spicing the air in the truck. Usually he avoided situations like that. Scent of other people’s need and wanting made him uneasy, restless. But not Marie’s. He could almost hear a soft clicking sound somewhere inside of him when it wafted to his nostrils. Like a piece of a puzzle locking in to its rightful place. A wife? No. A life.

She felt warm and relaxed. Earlier frantic need had ebbed, still glowing inside of her, making her crawl closer to Logan, fingers seeking bare skin to touch. She found it under his shirt and anchored her fingers under the waistband of his jeans, feeling his muscles tense momentarily. She closed her eyes and let dream take over. In her dream they didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. Logan didn’t ask and she didn’t have to answer, because they were already joined, melting together. Her white, scarred skin mixing with his tanned and flawless. Twirling together like strands of rope, drowning to each other. Last thing she saw were his eyes, usual brown gaining sickly, yellow tint.
“Mine…” Vicious sounding snarl shook her awake and she sat up abruptly, pulling away from him.

“Slept well?” Logan asked. Marie yawned and looked around. Sun was rising. And she could have sworn she had slept barely few minutes. Scenery around them had changed. Thick forest had replaced the dry desert.
“Just fine. Aren’t you tired?” She asked, turning to look at him. Last time she had seen him actually sleep was during the sandstorm, before Hunters caught them. Logan shrugged.
“Little. But we’re already close to my place and I figured we could drive there straight. Don’t want to risk another incident.” They had passed several patrols of Hunters during the night, but he wasn’t going to tell Marie that. He didn’t want her to worry.
“Can we stop for a minute?” Marie suddenly asked. Logan looked at her questioningly. She blushed slightly.
“I need to pee. Badly. Stop the truck if you don’t want to mop up the seat.”

“Better?” Logan asked when she climbed back to the truck.
“Much. And hungry.”
“Okay. I guess we could take a short break…”

“Unfuckingbelievable. Can’t we stop for five minutes without getting in to trouble?” Logan huffed, tugging the ropes that bind his hands behind his back. It was futile attempt. Surprisingly strong group of starving looking men and women had attacked them and captured them.
“And I bet they’re not after our breakfast…” Marie muttered, watching when they were gathering large pile of wood, stacking it to form a platform of sorts. When one of the men stepped forth, carrying sharp looking metal rods Logan nodded.
“They want fresh meat.” Marie squeaked in horror when they lit the pile of branches they had gathered. Flames stormed through dry wood.
“Don’t worry. We have some time left. They will wait until the temperature is right. No use to burn us to a crisp when they can let us cook slowly…” Logan muttered eyes fixed to the fire.

He remembered another fire, years ago. His group had captured a messenger. Not even an enemy unit. After they had checked that it wasn’t carrying any important messages they had roasted it and eaten it. It had been their first meal in nearly two weeks. Army had had some problems with transportation and there simply was no real food left.

“We're mutants!” Marie announced hastily when man carrying the skewers walked to them.
“Makes no difference. Meat is meat,” he grunted.
“Army property,” Logan said. Man spat.
“You’re shitting me.”
“No. I have implants, and she’s pumped full of toxins. One bite and you can kiss your ass good-bye,” Logan said, bending forward and releasing his claws for evidence. Man cursed softly, then turned to face his companions.
“Rotten meat. We’ll have to find something else,” he shouted. People looked devastated.
“We have food, in the truck,” Marie said. Man looked at her and snorted.
“Dried rations? Good for animals. We need fresh meat.”

“Wasn’t that entertaining…” Logan whispered after the group had left and they couldn’t hear their chatter any longer. He was twisting and turning, rolling on the ground, trying to loosen the ropes. He stopped when Marie whimpered and turned to look at her.

She was bending her body to a position that wasn’t even possible, arching her back, tugging her ropes and dragging her hands slowly over her head. He could hear sickening, popping sound when she dislocated her shoulders. Then her hands lay on her stomach instead of her back, still tied together.
“Come here,” she urged him, trying not to cry. He scooted next to her, and she started to open the ropes that tied his hands.
“How the hell did you do that?”
“I have gotten in to trouble before I met you. There was nobody who could help me. I had to learn a few tricks to get out…”

“Come on. I’ll carry you back to the truck, and we won’t fucking stop until we are at my place,” Logan said, rubbing her back soothingly. Marie had nearly fainted when he had set her shoulders, and was now cradling her arms on her lap.
“We should tie those up for a while. Let your shoulders heal…” He took his shirt, slung it over her shoulders and made a two-way sling from it for her to carry her arms before picking her up to his arms.

“Home, sweet home.” Marie looked around puzzled. Logan had parked the truck to a small clearing in the woods. There were no buildings, just soft looking grass and some twigs and bushes.
“Looks like nobody found it. Good…” Logan said, rubbing his hands together.
“Found what?” Marie asked. Logan smirked.
“The Bat cave. Wait here. I’ll go and check it out, just in case…” Logan said, opening the door and jumping out. She watched when he walked to a small hill in the middle of the clearing. He fiddled with a pile of rocks for a moment. Suddenly she could feel the whole truck around her trembling. Logan took a few steps away from the rocks when something happened. Side of the hill started to tear open.

“It’s an old bunker. Found it after I escaped from the Army,” Logan explained, helping her down from the truck. Where had been a beautiful, soft-looking grass, stood now sturdy looking concrete building. Flat roof and slightly tilted walls. No windows. Only one, heavy metal door.
“But how… Where was it? What happened?” She stammered.
“Underground. This is just an entrance. There’s a mechanism that makes it possible to lower it under the ground level during an attack. I use it to hide my home when I’m not around. Got tired of throwing out squatters every fucking time I came home.”
“Squatters? You mean people?” Marie asked. Logan nodded.
“But they know about this place…” Logan frowned and turned to look away, clearing his throat.
“It’s safe in here. Nobody knows about this place. I took care of it. Haven’t seen any more people after first five went missing…”
“You killed them?” Marie whispered.
“Let’s talk about something else. I’ll show you around, and we can start unpacking the truck.”

She had expected damp and gloomy corridors, and equally damp and gloomy small cells. What she encountered when Logan opened the door and led him underground made her gasp.

There was a corridor. It was softly lit and clean. Floor was covered with wide, polished wooden planks. Walls were painted light brown, almost white. Light came from small spotlights mounted to the ceiling. At the end of the corridor was a large, oval room. Ceiling was somewhere high above her head. Floorboards under her feet were squeaky clean. Walls were covered with light brown wooden paneling. Rows of bookshelves with books on them covered large parts of the walls. There was a cozy-looking fireplace, and two doors, one on each side of it.
“Bedroom,” Logan said, opening the one on the left side of the fireplace.
“And kitchen.” He pushed open the door on the right side of the fireplace.

Furniture was clearly self-made, but it was done with a skill. Every chair and table, every shelf, even the bed looked like they had rather grown than cut to their current shape. And soft glow of electric lighting illuminated it all.

“There’s an underground current. It powers up the turbines and they produce electricity. Enough for lights and heating this place. And kitchen is electric. Stove, freezer, fridge.”
“Have you done all of this by yourself?” Marie asked. Logan nodded, shuffling his feet.
“Bathroom’s at the other end of the corridor. Come on, I’ll show it to you,” he said, tugging her after him.

She had expected a small closet with a sink and a toilet seat. Again she was in for a surprise. First they entered to a small room with row of benches lined against the walls. There were hooks above those benches. Again she was facing two doors.
“Toilet,” Logan opened the smaller door. There was a toilet seat and a sink.
“Bathroom,” he said, opening the other door. It was small, but clean. A shower, and in the middle of the room a large, sunken tub.
“Took me ages to find these tiles…” Logan said, smiling and brushing his knuckles against light green ceramic surface of the wall. He had fought a bled for every single tile. For every single machine and lamp. For every single nail that he had used to coat cold concrete surfaces with wood. And now he could finally kick back and relax. He had a home. He had transportation. He had somebody to share those with.

“So… Are you up to it?” Logan asked, swaying lightly on his heels, hands clasped behind his back. Marie tore her eyes from the lavish bathroom little reluctantly.
“Up to what?” She had never seen a place like this. Even the town hall in her home village had been a cruddy barn compared to this, and after she had taken off to the road, it had all been downhill from there.
“Will you stay with me?” Logan asked. The tone of his voice was carefully masked, but the pleading look on his face revealed his true feelings. He was terrified. Ready to kneel and beg if needed to.
“Will you let me stay?” She asked. Logan pulled her against his chest and wrapped her his arms around her, squeezing gently.
“Wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise. Stay?” He spoke; face pressed against the top of her head, feel of warm breath sending shivers down her spine.
“I’ll stay.”

She explored her new home more thoroughly while Logan carried their belongings in from the truck. Kitchen fascinated her. She had never seen those things Logan had named before. Fridge. Freezer. Electric stove? Fridge and freezer were probably for storaging food, because they were cold. Stove looked at the same time familiar, and frighteningly alien. Four cooking plates on top, and an oven underneath them. Just like the ones she had used before. But there ended the similarities between this electric device, and stoves she had used. Where she had had to keep applying wood and make sure fire kept going, but not too hot, this one looked like it would be much more complicated. It had several different buttons and switches. She wondered where Logan had gotten it. Gotten all this electric stuff. Nobody had it anymore. Nobody. Not after the war begun. They were luxuries. Only lazy mutants relied on those. Real, clean people worked hard and fair. That’s why mutants were so easy to find, capture and cart away, Marie’s father had told her once, when she had seen a picture of a television on a book she had been reading.
“So, I’m a lazy mutant, now. Proud of me, daddy?”

Where did you get all this stuff?” She asked when Logan was putting away food, clothes and other belongings.
“It fell from the sky?” Logan offered, opening the freezer and lifting two huge cardboard boxes in there.
“Right.”
“I fought for it. Some guy had ambushed an Army caravan with his friends. He was stupid enough to come in to the cage with me.”
“Oh… What about the other stuff? Fridge, stove? That freezer?” Marie asked.
“Everything you see in here I have either made it, or fought for it.” Logan started to sound a bit agitated, but she had one more question. She had to know.

“Have you ever killed anybody?” That stopped him. He turned to look at her.
“You know I have. You even helped to clean the truck after it. And when the Army had me…”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the cage. Have you ever killed anybody in there?” She clarified. Logan shook his head.
“This stuff is clean for that part. Nobody has died for this.”
“Good. It wouldn’t feel right to use all this if I knew it was taken from a corpse.”
“Is that why you didn’t make bets?” Logan asked.
“How do you know?”
“I watched you. You stood there and listened, heck, you knew the guys and knew probably what they were capable better than themselves, and you didn’t use that knowledge. Pride got in the way?” Logan asked tilting his head. Marie’s anger flared. Was he mocking her?
“It wouldn’t have been right. I couldn’t have used that money if I knew somebody died because of it!” Logan let out a low chuckle for her outburst.
“How the hell you managed to stay so fucking pure an innocent?” He turned his back to her and continued arranging various packages to the cupboards.
“And how the hell you can stand being with me in the long haul?” He continued silently when he heard Marie leaving the kitchen.

She lay in the bathtub, eyes closed. This was heaven. Logan had explained how it worked, how she could adjust the temperature of the water by turning the handle next to the faucet. There was even soap. She was sure she would soon turn to a prune, but it didn’t matter. She could remember the last time she had taken a bath, and it had been a quick one. Cold water in a tin barrel, just a quick dip to get rid of most of the accumulated dust and grime before dressing up and going to work.

He sat in front of the cold fireplace. Tomorrow he would have to check the chimney if it still worked. He had used all his knowledge and lots of guessing before he had managed to build a system that filtered practically all warmth and small particles from the smoke, so that only relatively cool steam was released to surface. No use to hide your house if the smoke gave up its location. He lay down on the floor, listening small creaks and cracks his spine made. He was home. And if everything went as he planned, he wouldn’t have to leave ever. No more running around and looking over your shoulder. No more waking up in the middle of the night, ears straining, trying to catch even the smallest of the sounds. He had smelt first signs of the winter in the wind couple days ago. Not the kind of winter they had before the war. There wouldn’t be snow. It wouldn’t even get cold. Weather would be hot and dry. But when it was over… He glanced towards the kitchen. There had been plant seeds in the truck. Grain and some vegetables. He wasn’t a farmer, but he was quite sure he would figure out how to make them grow. All he had to do was to clear the land around the bunker.

Soft rap against the doorframe woke her from her slumber just in time before she slid under the surface of the soapy water. She sat up, then promptly slid back down until soapy suds floating on the surface of the water covered her from neck down. Door opened and Logan stepped in.
“Brought you some towels.” He placed them to the bench next to the tub. Then he just stood there, staring at her.
“What?” She was still slightly angry. And little unsure of how he felt.
“Nothing,” he said, turned and left, closing the door.

She was angry. No wonder. He had only been genuinely amazed that people like her still existed, but words had left his mouth in a wrong way. And now she thought he was laughing at her.
“Shit.” He had to figure out a way to make her understand. He wasn’t exactly well known and appraised for his ability to apologize.

She was in the shower, rinsing off the remnants of the soap when Logan walked in again. He took the towels from the bench and sat on it.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Being Peeping-Tom?” Marie asked, trying to cover her body with her hands.
“No. The earlier. In the kitchen. I wasn’t laughing at you. I’m sorry if it sounded like that.”
“Uh… Apology accepted. Could you give me a towel?”
“Why? There’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He had been so determined to apologize, that he really hadn’t even noticed her lack of clothing. Now he stood up, discarded the towels to the bench and walked to her.
“Don’t… Give me a towel…” She wasn’t even trying to cover her private parts. She was trying to hide the scars. He took her hands and led her away from the shower. Angry bruises on her shoulders enhanced the scars on there. Rest of those were mere white patches on her pale, soft skin.
“I’m sorry for putting them on you, but you’re not ugly,” he said, crouching in front of her and nuzzling his face against the palm print on her stomach. His hands went around her waist and secured her there when she tried to escape.

She wanted to hide. More than anything she wanted to hide her disfigured, scarred skin. Logan wasn’t letting her.
“Could you please give me a towel?” She asked, voice trembling.
“No. I want to look at you. I want to touch you. Let me?” He spoke against the skin of her stomach.
“You’re so soft and beautiful…” she hid her face to her palms in utter humiliation. Nobody, nobody had touched her like this before. Nobody had ever seen the full extent of her injuries. Earlier, in the desert she had been blinded by her need to feel and touch, but now, in here, all she could think about was that Logan had to be lying. Nobody could look at her and say those words. Nobody could call something so ugly soft and beautiful.

Logan turned her gently around, placing a kiss to her lower back, giving the scar there a small, quick lick. Earlier sweat, dust and grime had masked her scent and taste of her skin nearly completely, but now he could smell only vanilla and peppermint. Taste only vanilla mixing with salt and copper. He didn’t know, but he was quite positive that those were combinations he wouldn’t find anywhere else. They belonged to Marie. He let go of her right hip and touched the scar that run over her shoulder blades, pausing in the middle. Vertebrae. Some sort of angel had been watching over her that night. Her shoulder blades were little higher than her vertebrae, and skin on top of it was flawless. Untouched. Had his smoldering bones touched there he could have easily crippled her. He placed a kiss to there, sending silent thank you for what ever higher deity that had given them some mercy that night. He turned her around again. She wasn’t hiding behind her hands anymore, but deep blush colored her cheeks.

“Why do you do this?” She managed to squeak. Logan’s eyes locked to hers. Small golden flecks swimming in brown pools.
“It feels so good to be like this. To touch you. I haven’t… I don’t touch people. Not like this. Do you want me to stop?” she wanted to say yes. One small word, and he would have given her a towel. She could have left. She could have put on her clothes. A safe shield from people’s gazes.
“Don’t stop.”

She had tried to sound sure and mature. Her voice betrayed her. She was shivering from standing so long wet from the shower. Words came out as trembling as her earlier plea for a towel.
“We don’t have to… I’m not going to force you…” Logan started. She silenced him by placing a kiss to his lips.
“I’m cold.”
“I’ll warm you up…” Logan whispered smiling; reaching for a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders before taking another and started toweling her long locks dry.

She brushed his face with her fingertips, drawing a path from his eyebrows down to his cheeks and from there to his neck, leaning closer to kiss him again. Kiss grew more bolder when he let the towel slide to the floor and replaced it with his bare fingers, wrapping the silky, damp strands of her hair around them, massaging her scalp lightly. She parted her lips instinctively, and his tongue licked a quick taste from hers. They were both trembling, and out of breath.
“Bedroom?” Logan asked.
“Bedroom,” she affirmed. She wanted to continue. To undress him and explore his body like he had done to her. Cold and wet floor of the bathroom was even less practical and appealing than the open desert.

“Take your clothes off,” Marie asked. He was more than willing to comply. He wanted to feel her bare skin against his, feel those soft corves pressing against him. Let her scent rub on him. Let his scent rub on her. He undressed quickly and lay on the bed next to her.
“Can I touch you?” Marie asked.
“I want you to…” His voice broke to incoherent murmur when she let her nails graze his forearm.
“Don’t…” He hissed and took a hold from her wrist.
“Did it hurt?”
“No. But don’t.”
“Okay…”

She concentrated to other parts of him more thoroughly, touching, watching and tasting every inch of him. All the while he continued his interrupted expedition on her body, paying serious attention every time she had to stop and moan, memorizing those spots for future use. Small room was soon filled with the scents of their arousals. Finally he had to give up. He could only lay under her and try to remember how to breathe. He hadn’t experienced anything like this before. Gentle kisses and touches all over his body, her skin whispering over his like softest silk.
“Oh, God…” Surprisingly strong fingers wrapped around his erect cock, stroking it little hesitantly, feeling the shaft, sliding over the weeping head. Soon movements got bolder. Strange, yet somehow familiar tightening feeling started to grow at the pit of his stomach.
“Stop…”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

Logan chuckled softly.
“It didn’t hurt. Let me show you…” He turned on his side and pushed Marie on her back, letting his gaze sweep over her body before he bent his head and kissed her, letting his hand wander to her breasts. Fingers teased her already hard nipples and she mewled, rubbing her thighs together.
“Feels good?” She could only nod and gasp when he replaced his hand with his mouth, sucking, licking and nibbling the skin, lips finally closing around one nipple while his hand traveled lower. His fingers brushed over her lower curls. Questioning gaze met her eyes.
“Can I?” She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back to her breasts.
“Yes…”

She parted her legs to grant him better access. One finger parted her already slick folds carefully, diving deeper. Slow and light caresses that made her squirm and grasp his hair, his shoulders, and sheets. Anything. She was nearly sobbing when he found her core, sliding that finger in and pumping it in and out. She needed more.
“Please…”
“Can we…? Can I…?”
“I want you inside of me.”

He crawled between her legs, lying carefully on top of her. His cock slid between her folds, nice and warm.
“Am I too heavy?” He asked. He wasn’t a small man, and seeing her under him, almost pixie-like creature made him worried.
“No… Oh…” She wrapped her legs around his waist, and the tip of his cock sunk in to her, making them both gasp in unison. She pulled him closer, feeling him sliding deeper. At first it felt strange, even painful. Something was stretching and tearing inside of her. She bit her lip when he moved, stifling a whimper that tried to escape.

She was scorching hot and tight, pulsing around him. He could smell blood. Not much of it, but it was enough to start to worry.
“Am I hurting you?” He asked, rising on his elbows. Marie shook her head.
“Just a little. But I think it’s supposed to be like that on the first time. Just… Just… Ah!” He had felt her tensing under him while she spoke. Now she pulled him down on her with sudden movement, and he could feel his whole length sinking in to her.
“Marie?”
“I’m fine. Stay still for a while…”

It was already getting better. That pinching and tearing feeling had disappeared. Only small soreness and ache lingered. He was exactly where she needed him to be. Hard, solid column in her core.
“How about we both try to relax and breath?” Logan suggested. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, but Logan was actually shivering like a leaf, and he looked a bit pale.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, trying to back away from her.
“Don’t go. Stay.” She wrapped her hands around him, urging him to lie on top of her.
“I want you there. I want to feel you.”
“Let me go. Now,” Logan growled, face only inches from hers, nearly baring his teeth.

She couldn’t understand what had happened. It had been little awkward and clumsy. She hadn’t even expected more. But it had started to feel better. Then suddenly she was face to face with a complete stranger. Angry and scared man. As soon as she had let go of Logan, he had gotten up and walked out from the bedroom. She wasn’t sure if she should follow him. If he wanted he to follow him.

What the fuck had possessed him to think he would be a fit company to anybody? What had made him think he could handle being close to somebody? That he could be gentle and caring? That he could have something so clean and good and beautiful in his life? That he could have a life?

“You’re nothing more than a bunch of fucking animals. After we are through with you, you will still be a bunch of filthy animals, but you will be useful to us. Useful to our cause.”
He still remembered that day. His first day in the training. He had been ten years old. Much younger than others in his unit. Trainer had made them beat the shit out of each other. Guards had been watching and cheering. After it was over, he had been the last one standing. Trainer had walked to him, huge hulking figure towering over him.
“Fucking runt! Get down!” Hard blow to his cheek had sent him sprawled on the ground. It had continued for weeks. Finally they had understood. They were nothing more than animals. After he had escaped it had taken years to believe he could be something more. Maybe even human, if he tried hard enough.

And now he had gotten rock-solid proof of his real nature. Real human wouldn’t have had the same kind of urges that he had. Real human wouldn’t have gotten more excited after smelling blood. Real human wouldn’t have wanted to taste it. Real human wouldn’t have wanted to bite. Real human wouldn’t have wanted to claim her so harshly as he had wanted.

She eased out of the bed as soon as she heard it. Small gasp from the living room. Logan was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, hands curled around his knees, face hidden behind his forearms.
“Logan?”
“Wolverine.”
“What?”
“Wolverine. That’s my real name. Wolverine.”
“What happened?” Marie asked, kneeling next to him. She tried to get closer; to wrap her arms around him, but Logan shrugged her off.
“You don’t want to do that.” His voice came out strangled.
“Why? I like touching you,” Marie tried to assure him, sliding her palm over his back.
“Why?” Logan had lifted his head, and was staring at her, eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring. Gauging her reactions.
“I like you. I think… I think that you like me too. And I want to see if we could have something more…” Logan’s derisive snort interrupted her.

“Something more? Love? Maybe a nice little family? Few kiddies running around? Nice and cozy?” He spat every word out like it was poison. And poison it was to Marie. She couldn’t understand his behavior.
“Why are you being so mean? I thought you liked it, too.”
“Yeah. I liked it…” Logan grunted, releasing his knees.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Go back to bed. I’ll sleep out here.”
“No. I want to know what’s wrong. Did I do something to upset you or…”
“No. You didn’t. Go back to bed, okay?” Logan said. He was starting to crack, she could tell.
“Logan…” She reached with her hand, placing it on his knee. Logan bolted on his feet.
“I freaked out! Okay? I don’t do this! I don’t walk around touching and kissing and hugging people! I don’t know how to deal with it! Okay?”
“Do you think it’s somehow easier to me? I’m a fucking ugly freak! But you made me feel better. Like those scars didn’t really matter.”
“They don’t matter,” Logan whispered with a raspy voice.
“But this does. This is what I am. An animal…” He continued.
“And I have no business with the likes of you.”

She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say. Then one question rose to her mind, making her lips tremble.
“Are you throwing me out?”
“I should. You’d do better without me. I’m no fit company.”
“Fine. I’ll go and pack my stuff… It’s still mine, right? The clothes and…” She stammered, lump in her throat making it hard to speak.
“Go to sleep. There’s a settlement near by. About day’s journey. I’ll take you there tomorrow. Those clothes are yours. I’ll give you enough money to get by until you find a job.”

She walked numbly to the bedroom. Sleep? After what had happened? She lay on the bed crawling under the blanket. It really had been too good to be true.
“Stupid. Stupid.” Nobody cares about mutants. Not even other mutants.
“Better learn it little late than never…” She closed her eyes. Willed sleep to come. For a while she lay there, rigid, not breathing. Then tears came. Silent sobs made her curl deeper under the covers.

He was in the kitchen, getting dressed up. He had really fucked this up. But what else you could expect from somebody as fucked up as him? His left hand rose, fingers rubbing his cheek just under his eye. Partially expecting to feel cold metal. ID tag. They had welded it to his skull, leaving a small portion of it above his skin. Name and series of numbers. It had been a bitch to cut out, but he had finally made it. Other units had gotten tattoos, but his mutation had eaten the ink faster than they could apply it. Scent of her tears pulled him out from his memories.
“Shit.” Now he had made Marie cry. Couldn’t he get anything right?

Mattress shifted and bedclothes rustled.
“Leave me alone.”
“Marie…” Hand landed on her shoulder and turned her on her back. She kept her eyes closed.
“Try to understand. Things I did… They messed me up. It took years to figure out how to live like a normal person. When we… When we started kissing, it was good. You have no idea how good it felt. But then… This all happened so quickly. Too quick. Nobody’s cared for me before. I haven’t cared for anybody before. I’m scared at what will happen.”
“So you choose to run and hide rather than find it out?” Marie asked, opening her eyes.
“Like I said, this is new to me too. I have been alone from since I was twelve. Scared of people. Trapped in this poisonous body. Now I finally found somebody who I wasn’t afraid, and you’re kicking me out?”

“We really are pathetic if we let this end,” Marie said. Logan swallowed.
“You think we should try again?” He asked.
“Don’t you?” Marie asked. He had to think his answer for a while. It had to come out right. Finally he settled to the simplest possible solution.
“Yeah. I think it would be a good idea. But…” He held up his hands when she sat up and scooted closer him.
“I’ll sleep in the living room. I’m not ready for… I’m not ready for more.”

“So, what do we do now?” Marie asked. They had woken up, and were sitting in the kitchen. Logan had surprised her again. He had presented her curious looking black, hot liquid. Coffee. She knew tea, but coffee she had never tasted before. It tasted bitter, but yet something in it tickled her taste buds like nothing had before.
“I have to fix up the truck.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Marie asked, taking a careful sip from the steaming cup.
“Everything. Have to strip it bare and build it back from the scratch. Right now it screams ‘Army Property’.”
“Can I help?” She asked. Logan tilted his head.
“I don’t know. Know anything about trucks?”
“No. But I have worked in a garage. Few years ago. I was painting cars.”

It was a long and tiring day. First they had driven the truck to an underground garage. Then they had started working on it. Even though garage was well equipped, at the end of the day they had only managed to remove truck’s outer shell, armored plates that shielded its cargo and passengers from bullets.

“Those bastards weigh a ton!” Marie panted, sitting on a workbench. She watched as Logan extracted the last plate and dragged it to the side, bare skin of his upper body gleaming from sweat and grease, muscles rippling and bulging from exertion.
“Tomorrow we’ll start with the frame. Lower it a little and I was thinking we could turn the lorry enclosed. But that’s tomorrow. I’m fucking too old for this shit…” Logan groaned, wiping his face with the remains of his T-shirt.
“You’re not too old,” Marie giggled.
“Yeah. I am. I was one of the first Destroyers ever made,” Logan grunted, completely serious.
“But that’s… That’s not possible!” Marie gasped.
“I was eight years when I manifested. Two years before the War begun. They carted me to training when I was eleven.”
“That would make you… How old it would make you?” Marie asked, scrunching her forehead.
“Close to hundred years.”
“You don’t look that old.”

“Without the army I would probably look like eleven. My mutation prevents me from aging. They suppressed it, to keep me growing until I was big and strong enough for their purposes,” Logan said. Marie shivered. Suddenly the godlike body next to hers didn’t look so appealing and arousing anymore.
“First couple weeks I was sick like a dog. It felt horrible. Then I got used to it. In a way I’m glad at that it happened,” Logan continued.
“You’re happy that Army caught you?” Marie whispered, not believing her ears.
“Without them I would still be a kid. Grown man in a kid’s body. And I have a feeling I would be even more messed up than I already am…” For a moment they sat side by side in silence.
“So, that’s about it. Lets go and get cleaned up. I’m hungry,” Logan said, hopping down from the bench.

“I think I’ll take a bath,” Marie said, stretching her arms and legs while they walked towards living quarters of Logan’s lair as she had started to call it.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Logan asked.
“Didn’t you want to keep some distance between us?” Marie asked puzzled.
“It’s just a bath, Marie.”

They washed most of the grit and filth off in the shower while they waited the tub to fill.
“Let me help you with that…” Logan said, taking the soap from Marie when she tried to reach her back. His soapy hands slid over her skin, fingers massaging sore and tired muscles. She nearly fell to asleep under Logan’s ministrations.
“That feels good,” she moaned, closing her eyes.
“Yeah… I’ll go and get us something to eat. You just hop in the tub…” Logan’s voice was little hoarse, but she thought nothing out of it. They were both just tired. Eating in the tub proved to be a good idea. Some tinned vegetables, dried, salted fish, and dried fruits and nuts for dessert. They were both too tired to cook.

“I think I might never get out of here…”
“Soon we have to. Water’s cooling down,” Logan murmured, leaning to the brim of the tub, head thrown backwards, eyes closed.
“Or we could add more hot water,” Marie suggested scooting closer to the faucet. Her legs brushed against Logan’s and they both flinched slightly.
“Shit…” Logan hissed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“Just remembered that I was going to check the chimney today. Forgot all about it…”
“Can’t you do it tomorrow?” Marie asked.
“Yeah. I guess I can. It’s not like we don’t have time,” Logan said smiling lightly and reached for the drain at the bottom of the tub, opening it.
“Come on, get out of there for a minute,” he said, helping Marie getting up from the tub. She stood at the brim of it, shivering. Logan plugged the drain and started to fill the tub again.
“Now, where did I put it…” He muttered, rummaging through cabinet that stood next to the tub.
“There.” He took out a small bottle made of glass. There was yellow, almost golden liquid inside of it.
“Honey and beeswax,” he said opening the faucet and adjusting it little warmer than their earlier bath, pouring some of the liquid in to the water.
“You worked pretty hard. You will be sore in the morning. This should help you to relax,” he explained when they lowered themselves back to the tub.

Logan had been right. She already felt her muscles start to stiffen when she lay on the bed. Scent of honey wafting around her, and soft feeling it left on her skin made it little better. She couldn’t remember the last time her skin had felt so pure and warm. It was practically glowing in the dim light the lamps provided to the bedroom. She had expected it to leave a sticky surface, but Logan had explained that hot water helped the honey to soak in to her skin, leaving only very thin layer of beeswax to the surface. Both honey and wax contained pain-relieving substances. She closed her eyes, small smile tugging the corners of her mouth. She had thought earlier, in the garage that it would be impossible for Logan to look any more attractive, sweat beading on his skin and muscles straining, but after they had gotten out of the tub she had nearly swallowed her tongue. Honey and wax coating had enhanced his already tanned skin, and helped to outline every muscle, tendon and bone in his body. She remembered Logan mentioning that he had enhanced senses and she blushed slightly. He most likely had been able to smell her reaction to him.

He curled on the mattress he had spread in front of the fireplace. He really hadn’t needed that last part of their bath. He could have drawn it just for Marie and let her enjoy it alone. At first he had intended to do so. But seeing her, immersed in the water, her nostrils flaring lightly, eyes closed and whole body relaxed, he had been unable to resist. Scent of honey and beeswax still clung to his skin. Same scent wafted from the bedroom where she slept. His lids felt heavy, but he didn’t want to sleep. Not yet. It felt so good just lay in peace and listen the small sounds she made in her sleep. She was a quiet sleeper. Hardly breathing, shifting only now and then and murmuring in her sleep so quietly that even his superior hearing couldn’t catch the meaning of those words she spoke.

He wanted to go to there. Lay in the bed next to her. Keep her close. But it was better this way. Better to wait, and learn. Earlier fiasco of their attempted lovemaking made him almost blush, something he never did. It really had been too soon. Even if their bodies didn’t agree with their minds. After their bath it had been quite evident how much she wanted him. And for a moment he had pondered weather to take her in the bathroom, or in the bedroom. Soft golden glow on her skin, aroma of her arousal mixing with honey. Half hooded eyes scanning his body hungrily.
“Fuck.” He sat up, gaze shifting from the fireplace to the closed bedroom door.

“Hi. What’s the matter?” She asked, surprised to see Logan standing at the doorstep, black, woolen quilt wrapped around his shoulders.
“Can I sleep with you?” He asked.
“We already shared a bath. I don’t see why it would be a problem,” Marie said, lifting a blanket she lay under and patting the empty space on the bed next to her. Logan suppressed a growl that threatened to escape. She slept nude, just like him.
“Do you want me to put on some clothes?” He asked. Marie shook her head.
“Just come to bed.”

And it was only natural to crawl under the same blanket and pull her close, her back against his chest, buttocks against his crotch, legs tangling together with his.

Marie woke up alone. She stretched carefully and moaned softly when every muscle protested. Empty space beside her was already cold. She sat up and rubbed her eyes little groggily. Yawned and stretched again, quilt falling from her shoulders and pooling around her hips.
“Good morning.” Scent of coffee wafted to her nose. Logan was standing at the doorstep, leaning against the doorframe, holding a ceramic cup in his hand.
“What have you been doing?” Marie asked, taking in his appearance. Covered in black soot from head to toe, wearing worn and tattered clothes.
“Checked the chimney. Was going to start with the truck next. Coffee?” Logan asked, lifting his cup. Marie nodded.
“Pot’s in the kitchen. Help yourself. There’s bread and meat, too if you’re hungry. I’ll be in the garage,” Logan said, eyes wandering briefly over her exposed body before he turned and left.

He had woken up few hours ago, still nestled against Marie’s warmth, face buried against the back of her neck. Scent of honey, sleep and ever-present slight arousal had first made him nuzzle closer to her and close his eyes. He had given her shoulder a careful lick. A quick one. But not quick enough to fool his body. He had gotten up reluctantly, before little stirring in his crotch would have turned to a problem.

Cold shower had helped him to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep. Cup of coffee later he had been inside of the chimney, scraping his elbows and banging his head in the darkness. He wasn’t at ease with narrow, enclosed spaces, but it had to be done. Leaving the chimney unchecked was asking for trouble. Luckily everything had been okay, and he could crawl out from there when he heard Marie waking up.

Now he was practically running from her. Running from the sight of her bare skin and sleep tousled appearance before his screaming instincts made him to crawl back to bed with her. He had taken her virginity and they had slept together, but it didn’t change the fact that he needed more time. More time to get used to her before they took this to a deeper level.

She dressed up and ate her breakfast quickly. Then she followed Logan to the garage with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Logan was practically assaulting their truck, tearing it to pieces with his bare hands. Feral gleam in his eyes, panting harshly, cutting the frame with his claws rather than using any of the tools that lay scattered on the floor. She sat on the workbench, deciding it was safer to observe than to try to help him.

It took him a while to realize that he was being watched. Marie. Coffee. Honey. Curiosity. Hint of fear. The last one made him stop and retract the claws.
“Slept well?” He had intended it as a polite question. It came out more like a growl, an interlude to interrogation. Scent of fear hitched up a notch, but when he turned to look at her, it didn’t show on her posture. She sat relaxed, taking a sip from her coffee and smiled.
“Better than well. You?” She asked.
“Fine. You ate already?” He asked, raking fingers through tangled mess of his hair, sweeping stray strands back from his forehead. His fingers left greasy, black smudges above his brows. He stepped closer to Marie. More fear. He tilted his head.
“Are you afraid?” Marie wrinkled her forehead in confusion. Afraid? What the hell was Logan talking about?
“I’m not afraid. I just thought it would be better to stay out of your way…” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Logan grabbed her arm and yanked hard, sending her flying through the air. She collided against the truck and slid to floor. Furious growl made her ears ring. Sound of scuffle made her ignore the pain on her side and she sat up.

A Destroyer. A fucking Destroyer. A mutant with the ability to turn invisible. How the hell he had missed it this long was a complete mystery to Logan. Now that he had spotted it, the presence of it was as clear as a day for him. Disgusting stench of fear, hunger and desperation told him exactly where it was. Claws tore their way out as he struck. He managed to graze his unwanted guest, and shock of it made it loose it’s cover.

It was a tall woman. Taller than Logan. Completely naked. Some letters and numbers tattooed to her cheek. As Marie watched, woman’s face started to melt. Skin, bones and muscles shifting and flowing. Before her transformation was complete, Logan kneed her to her stomach, and when she toppled over he decapitated her with a swift slice of his claws.

“Shit, shit, shit…” she had nearly gagged when disfigured head rolled past her. Now Logan was running after it, spewing curses. He picked it up. Sliced the skull open, splattering brain matter over his clothes. Claws retracted and he discarded the one half, turning the other over like a bowl and started scooping out what was left of the brain. Finally he seemed to find what he was looking for. Something small and metallic. He dropped the remains of the skull and lifted the item to closer inspection. After a moment he let out a low groan, almost a whimper.
“We have to leave. Now.”

“Take this.” Logan handed her a backpack. It was quite heavy, but once she got it on her shoulders, and straps secured around her waist it was relatively easy to carry. Logan carried a backpack much similar to hers. In addition he had dug up an array of weapons, small firearms, and strapped them to his sides and thighs. Five all in all.
“What just happened?” Marie asked. Now she was genuinely afraid.
“That fucker had been tagging along with us the whole fucking time. Tracking chip in her was still active. When I killed her it triggered an alarm, and now every fucking unit within hundred kilometers will be coming to see what happened. We have to get out of here before they arrive.” She wasn’t the only one afraid. Logan seemed to be terrified.
“Will we get away in time?” Marie asked when they run towards the stairs. Logan stopped at the bottom of them, and opened a small box attached to the wall, flicking down a row of switches.
“I don’t know. It depends… If she was a runaway, we have time. If she was still in active duty… We may have company waiting for us when we get to surface.”

“Stay behind me,” Logan whispered when they stopped behind the door that blocked the front entrance to the bunker. He opened the door carefully, scanning their surroundings. Forest was quiet. No signs of intruders. He let out a shaky breath.
“We got lucky. Nobody’s here, yet.”

They had been running for several hours. Logan had kept steady pace, choosing paths that were almost invisible to Marie’s eyes. She was out of breath, exhausted. Backpack weighed her down and her knees were trembling. Soon after they had left she had heard explosions from the direction of the bunker. Logan had flinched slightly.
“Easy come, easy go…” She had heard him grunt with a bitter voice. He had blown up his home.

Terrain around them changed abruptly. First she was running through a thicket, avoiding small branches and trying to stay on her feet. Then suddenly she was running on soft sand, open desert around her. She couldn’t see Logan anywhere. Just few minutes ago he had been rustling in front of her in the bushes. She slowed down and threw a quick glance over her shoulder. Thick, almost impenetrable barrier of thorny bushes. Her own footsteps over the sand. No Logan. She stopped running. Should she wait? Should she go back and look for him? Or should she keep running? And where the hell would she run? She was saved from making a decision when Logan stumbled out from the woods, followed by a feral looking man wearing a black uniform of a Destroyer.

Man crouched to a fighting stance in front of Logan, long metal claws sliding out from the tips of his fingers. She half expected Logan to mirror his actions. Instead Logan pulled a gun and shot the man. Then he holstered the gun and jogged to Marie.
“We can rest for a while. He was alone. There’s some food and water in your backpack. Don’t eat too much.”

She sat down, shrugged the backpack off from her shoulders and opened it. Clothes, few bottles of water and a selection of energy bars. She took out a bottle of water and two bars, offering the other to Logan. He shook his head, pacing restlessly back and forth, sweeping their surroundings with his gaze.
“I’ll eat later.”

If there was such thing as later. Remains of the bunker were probably already crawling with Destroyers and Hunters. Ready to tear him and Marie to shreds. Every Destroyer was linked to other Destroyers with a silicon chip that was implanted somewhere in their body, usually close to the brain. Chip triggered and started to send out a signal when Destroyer died, informing other Destroyers about a possible breach on the line, drawing them to close the gap before the enemy got through. Now he had triggered two chips. They were screwed.

“Half of the Army will be coming this way. We have to get to the settlement before they reach us. Out here we’re just two muties. Very expendable. In settlement they have to work more carefully, watch out for other people. Real people. We can hide there until they give up.” Logan spoke. He was still pacing, every muscle coiled, and ready to bounce. He was clenching and unclenching his fists.
“With the truck we would have been there by nightfall. Now… I could make it, be there tomorrow morning. With you… We move slower. Two days. It might be enough. Better be enough…” He was mumbling more to himself than to her.
“What if I stay here? Hide, and you go to settlement, find a new car and come to get me?” Marie suggested.
“No. And we have to get moving. Now,” Logan said, pulling her on her feet. She stumbled a little, trying to sort straps of the backpack.
“Forget it. Run,” Logan said, taking the backpack from her and pushing her to the right direction. She heard rustle of a Velcro, then a click. She turned to look. Logan was crouching on the ground, gun pointed towards the edge of the woods. He tilted his head slightly; keeping his eyes trained to the bushes and spoke with a quiet voice.
“Run.” Now she heard it too. Dry branches snapping. Shouted commands. Inhumane growls. Half of the Army had arrived.

She was running, dry, and hot wind blowing against her face. She had been running quite some time now. Long enough that the sound of guns behind her had quieted. Setting sun was coloring the sand and sky blood red. She could only hope it wasn’t an omen of things to come.

There had been ten of them. Two Destroyers escorted with eight Guards. He had shot Guards before they had the time to react. Then he had to discard his gun. Destroyers had closed in on him. Fresh from assembly line, he noticed. Either of them got real experience or knowledge, but their eagerness and bloodlust matched with his. One of them had nasty looking circular blades attached to its hands. The other was wearing a some sort of visor over its eyes.

The one with the blades attacked first, charging towards Logan blades spinning. He dodged it easily, but when he moved the other Destroyer sent a scorching hot beam towards him from the visor. It grazed his side, eating away skin and muscle, revealing his metal-coated ribs. Pain of it forced the claws out from his knuckles. The one with the blades took another attempt, lingering bit too long close to Logan, and he managed to lop off its hands. One threat taken care of. Visored one was trickier. It kept out of his reach, blasting him with rays every time he tried to attack.
“Fucking idiot. That’s what I am…” He muttered when they danced around each other. He reached for the gun strapped to his thigh. Took it and shot his assailant. Then turned and finished the other Destroyer that was writhing on the ground, cradling the stubs of its hands against its chest.

For a moment he had gotten lost to the heat of the battle. Field units rarely carried guns. They usually relied fully to their personal weaponry. It wasn’t before after his escape that he acquired firearms, and skill to use them.
“And two more alarms… Have to remember to leave next ones alive…” He holstered the gun, then picked up the one he had thrown away when Destroyers had attacked, putting it to a holster strapped to his lower back. It would be useless until he cleaned the sand out of it.

For a moment he just stood there, listening. Usual sounds of the forest, small animals scurrying around, leaves rustling in the wind. No incoming enemies. He turned and started to jog to the direction he had urged Marie to run. He could see her in the distance, small shimmering form, outlined by the setting sun.

It was already dark when he caught her. She had stopped running. She lay on the ground, hardly breathing, shivers wracking her whole body. Dehydration. He crouched next to her and shrugged off his backpack, opened it and pulled out a bottle of water.
“Wake up, kid.” She moaned softly when he gathered her to his arms and placed the bottle against her lips, pouring just a trickle of water in her mouth.
“Time to wake up, Marie. We have to keep moving,” he muttered, letting go of the bottle when she grabbed it.
“I’m too tired… Can I sleep for a while…” She rasped, taking a long pull from the water.
“Easy… Drink slowly. We can’t stop. Not yet. Have to keep moving. We can sleep after we reach the settlement.” He couldn’t smell or hear anybody except him and Marie, but that didn’t mean a thing. He hadn’t smelled the Destroyer that had been hiding in the truck, either. Marie started to sputter and cough. He took the bottle from her, screwed the cap back on and slid it to the backpack.
“I’m still thirsty…”
“And you will get sick if you drink any more. We’ll stop later and you can have some more. Come on, get up…” Logan said, standing up and pulling her after him.

She was sick and tired, and Logan was being mean to her. All she wanted to do was to drink some more, and take a little nap. Now he was running, and dragging her along like a rag doll. Couldn’t he see how exhausted she was? She wanted to stop. She wanted to sit down. She wanted to cry. Because she knew Logan was right. They had no time to stop. So she did her best, willing her feet to obey and keep in pace with Logan. Her brave attempt was cut short when a loose rock rolled away from under her heel. She stumbled; hand still clasped to Logan’s, and then fell on her knees with a startled shriek.

“I said we could stop later…” Logan growled. She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. They came accompanied by an agonized wail.
“Just because you can do it, doesn’t mean that I can! I’m not some build-up super-weapon! I’m just me! Just an ordinary, not so durable mutant!”
“And guess how happy I am about that?” Logan whispered, crouching in front of her, his back turned towards her. He had shrugged off his backpack.
“Put this on and hop on to my back,” he said, tossing the backpack to Marie.
“There’s a gun in here…” She sniffled.
“Safety is on. Don’t worry about it. Hop on. I’ll carry you. At least for a while.”

She weighed next to nothing. Small hands clasped around his throat, legs wrapped to his waist. Yet she was big enough to throw him off balance. Carrying her was slowing him down. Soft breasts pressed against his back and warm breath tickling the side of his throat weren’t helping matters either. He had to concentrate, but his thoughts kept drifting to much more pleasant scenarios when he was supposed to think up clever plans how to loose possible pursuers from their tracks.

“I think I’m going to be sick…”
“No, you’re not.”
“My head hurts… I want to sleep…”
“Stop whining and hold on.”
“I want to go home…”
“There’s no fucking home.”
“Can we stop and rest?”
“No.”

For a while Marie had been bickering and whining. He had been relieved for that. It had distracted him from his urge to throw her down and fuck her, but now she had been awfully quiet. Her grip around his throat started to loosen. He had to stop and lean forward to keep her falling from his back.
“Marie?” No answer. She was sleeping.
“Kid?” He crouched down and let her slide off from his back. She fell to a boneless heap to the ground.
“Shit.” Quick scan of their surroundings revealed nothing threatening. He decided to let her sleep for a while. He sat next to her, taking the backpack off from her and rummaged through it. Three full bottles of water. Ten energy bars. She would need all the water. He took one bar, closed the backpack and tucked it under her head. Wasn’t the softest possible pillow, but it was better than nothing.

Disgusting stench of his own sweat and blood made him strip off his ruined shirt. For a moment he stared at the backpack longingly. Then shook his head. She would need all the water. He scooped handful of sand and rubbed it over his skin. Grains would at least rub off the dried blood, and he wouldn’t feel so slippery and sticky anymore. He gave his hair the same treatment. Dust would dry off at least some of the sweat that trickled down his forehead, making his eyes sting.

It was so goddamned easy to fall back to old behavior patterns, that it was scary. In the field you learned to get by with what you had. For years he had had the luxury of choosing with what to get by. Yet now he didn’t have any difficulties to accommodate to the life without everyday necessities. Blowing up the bunker had stung for a moment, but now he felt almost relieved that he had gotten rid of it. One more burden less to take care of.

His hand landed on Marie’s shoulder. Small, warm and alive. Something to take care of. A tangible link to the real world. She would keep him in the land of the living. Separate him from the Destroyers. But to do that she would have to stay well and alive. He would have to take better care of her. As she herself had said it, she wasn’t as durable as Logan. Had she understood what he had meant when he told her he was happy about it? To him it meant she was free. Pure from the taint he carried inside of him.

“Time to wake up, kid…” Somebody was shaking her.
“Wake up.” That somebody sure was persistent. She tried to crawl away from the prodding finger that was jabbing her ribs. That finger turned to a hand that grabbed her elbow and wrestled her to a seated position, forcing her to open her eyes. Logan.
“How are you feeling?” He asked. She smacked her dry lips, and blinked couple of times.
“Like shit. Better than before. Thanks for letting me sleep.”
“It’s okay. I know I’m being an asshole. Sorry about that. Here. Drink some,” Logan said, pushing a bottle of water to her hand before standing up. It was warm and stale, but nothing had felt as good in long time, than that small sip of water flowing down her parched throat. She took another gulp, then Logan snatched the bottle from her, closing the cap and putting it back to backpack.
“We have at least one more full day before we reach that settlement. We don’t have that much water with us. Forgot the other backpack when those fuckers attacked.”
“Okay.”
“Will you stay on your feet?” Logan asked. She nodded. She would stay on her feet. She would keep up with him.
“Good. Lets get going,” Logan said, tossing the backpack over his shoulder.

It was little easier. Her body was slowly giving in for her demands. Her feet didn’t hurt as much as earlier. Logan made sure to stop from time to time and let her drink. Small sips. Only small. But the end of the day it became clear there had been not enough water.

“Shit.” He could see the lights of the settlement in the distance. Sun had set an hour ago. Yet it would be closer to dawn before they reached the place. She wouldn’t last that long. It was hard for him, too, but he would manage. His healing took care of dehydration up to a certain point, and that point was far ahead. He could go on at least two days more without water if needed. That wasn’t the case with Marie. For the last couple of hours she had been nearly delirious, trying to dive in to sand when he wasn’t looking, claiming she could see water, and why was Logan being so stubborn jackass and didn’t let her drink it? Now she was swaying next to him, staring at those same lights, breath rasping and wheezing.

“Drink up, kid.” Drink? Something warm pressed against her mouth. Salty liquid poured in, pulsing flow ebbing fast. She grabbed the thing in front of her face and suckled, trying to get as much of the liquid in her as possible.
“Let go for a sec…” She let go, whimpering slightly, then the thing came back, and again liquid flowed freely. Her taste buds started to react slowly. Metal mingled with salt. Again flow ebbed. She let go and opened her eyes. She lay on the ground, head propped to Logan’s lap. He was cutting his wrist with his claws and pressed the wound to her lips. Blood.
“Don’t get sick over it. We have kilometers to cover before we can get some water.”

Sound of running water drew her back from the parched dreamscape she had been wandering around for the past hours. Water. Close by. She cracked open her swollen eyelids. Hard, wooden floor under her back. She rolled on her stomach and rose on her hands and knees, mechanically, and scanned her surroundings. A faucet, attached to a wall. Walls around her. A room. A sink, and faucet, water running from it. She crawled to it and dragged herself up to quivering legs, ducking her head under the spray of water and drinking. She remembered Logan’s warnings earlier. Not to drink too fast or she would get sick. Reluctantly she turned off the faucet after few sips, then turned around.

Small room. Wooden floors and walls. A fireplace. Table and two chairs in front of it. A bed. Logan sleeping on it. Guns still strapped on, booted feet tangling over the side of the bed. He hadn’t gone to sleep. He had collapsed.

She turned back to the sink, turned on the faucet and drank some more. Took off her clothes and rinsed off as much of the accumulated grime and dust as it was possible. Feel of cool water flowing over her skin was heavenly.

He had stumbled to the settlement just after sunrise, Marie hanging limply on his arms. Generous wad of cash had ensured them a room from an inn. He had dragged his weary corpse up the stairs, sickening whine echoing inside of his skull. He knew he should have taken care of her, should have woken her up and given her something to drink. But he had been too tired. He had put her down on the floor, near the sink and turned on the faucet, hoping that the sound and scent of water would rouse her from her stupor. Mission accomplished he had walked to the bed, fully intending just to sit down for a moment to gather his strength. He had managed two whole steps before his legs had given up and he had fallen on the bed face down. Unable to move. Unable to stay awake.

Now somebody was shaking and prodding him. Fuckers. Didn’t they have sense enough to let him rest?
“Logan?” No. No Logan in here.
“Logan?” Why couldn’t they let him be? He was so fucking tired. They could go and get somebody else. There were others.
“Logan? Wake up.” Logan. There was no Logan. They had beaten him in to hiding. Was this some new way to remind him about that?

She wanted to clean him up. She didn’t know for sure, but she had a hunch that he couldn’t be very comfortable right now. Gritty sand chafing his skin, stench of sweat and blood coming off from him in waves. She had tried for several times to rouse him, but he stayed dead to the world.
“Wolverine?” She whispered hesitantly. Logan’s eyes blinked open and he sat up.

“Could you stand up?” Why the fuck the Mechanic sounded so scared? She had to know there was nothing he could do. He obeyed tiredly. She took his hand and led him to a sink.
“I’ll take these off and clean you up. You can go soon back to sleep. Okay?” He nodded mutely when she started stripping him from his weapons.
“Can you get your clothes off?” She asked. Yeah. He could do that. Probably meant that he was going to stay here for a while. Good. He was in no condition to go back to the field. He stumbled a bit, wobbling awkwardly on one leg, then on the other, kicking off boots and shrugging down his jeans.

Yellow gaze followed her every move with no real interest. Lights were on, but there was nobody home. She doused her shirt under the faucet and started sweeping Logan clean. First his face. Then neck. Low rumble, almost a purr echoed from deep within his chest when cool, wet cloth swiped behind his ears. Yet that blank look didn’t leave his face. She rinsed out the shirt and continued over his shoulders, down to his chest and back. Rinse, swipe and repeat. Rinse, swipe and repeat. A day before she would have balked at the idea of touching him so intimately, but she knew she had to get all of the sand away.

He could have done it by himself. She could have just left the rag and let him take care of himself. But she seemed so determined to clean him that he didn’t object. She even washed the crack between his buttocks. And he had to admit he felt already better. She hadn’t used any soap, but at least the thickest layer of dirt and grime was gone.
“Drink this.” A bottle of water was pushed to his hands. He downed it, eyeing the Mechanic absentmindedly. She was straightening the bed, dusting off sheets and blankets. She was naked. Firm, strong body. Had taken some damage at some point in her life. Old scars littering her skin. Well, fuck it. Everybody had scars.

When he lied down on the bed, Mechanic crawled under the blankets with him, still smelling scared, but wrapping her hands around him. A word rose to his mind. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he spoke it out loud.
“Marie?”
“It’s me, Logan…” Mechanic muttered softly, and scent of her fear started to evaporate.

He woke up disoriented and groggy. Last thing he remembered was walking up the stairs and opening a door. Heavy metal door of his bunker. Marie was sleeping, small body curled against his side. Events of the past days started to come back for him slowly. Narrow escape. Fighting. The desert. Traveler’s Inn. Another door. Door to this room opening. Then nothing. He let his gaze sweep over the room, taking in all details. Clothes and gun holsters on a pile on the floor, near the sink. Tattered backpack next to the bed they were sleeping on. Fireplace. Table and chairs. Scent of other occupants imprinted to every surface. Toilet seat next to the sink. Made out of steel. Heavy locks on the door. At least he had locked it behind them.

His attention turned back to Marie. Her lips were still swollen and cracked, but she was already looking much better than last time he had seen her. She must have kept drinking, because her skin was slowly gaining back its healthy glow. He turned on his side, trailing a finger over her features, from her eyebrows over her nose, over her lips. It made her wrinkle her nose and turn in her sleep. She ended up on her back, one hand still trapped between his neck and the pillow, the other thrown over the side of the bed. Her new position exposed her upper body, granting him full access to her breasts.

He spent few minutes just observing, watching how her ribcage moved just slightly with every breath she took. Finally need to touch her made him raise his hand and trail a path from her navel to between her breasts, to her sternum. She squirmed under his feather-light caress and turned back on her side. Quilt fell from her, ending to the floor, exposing her whole body. Angry bruising on her side, shape of the truck’s framework. Another bruise on her arm. Shape of his palm and fingers from when he had grabbed her in the garage. Both looked like they really hurt. And during the whole time she had said nothing. She had complained, all right, but not a word about his rough way of handling her.

“Hi,” she greeted him softly and opened her eyes. Small smile spreading to her lips.
“Hi. Thirsty?” He asked. She shook her head.
“Just glad that you’re back with me,” she mumbled scooting closer and nuzzling her face against his chest. He buried his face to her hair and breathed in deeply. Sleep, sand, and sweat, Marie.
“We got here. What do we do now?” Marie asked, lifting her head to look at him.
“We rest. Gather some supplies. Find a way to disappear.”
“That sounds like a good plan. How long do we have before…”
“Two days at tops. Maybe less. I should go and find us a vehicle,” Logan said, sitting up.
“Don’t go yet.” Her body curling around his waist and her soft plea made him swallow.
“Marie?” Her hands were sliding over his thighs, soothing bunched up hard muscles.
“Lay back down,” she whispered.

She was straddling him, hands caressing his temples and her lips grazing over his. He wanted this. He could smell her need, her want as well. His trembling hands rose and latched to her hips.
“Marie…”
“Hush…” She kissed him again, sliding her tongue past his lips, tasting him. He found it impossible not to answer. One hand still holding her hip, the other tangling to her hair, pulling her even closer.

She could feel Logan begin to harden under her and rolled her hips, enjoying the small jolts movement sent to the pit of her stomach. Logan gasped and sucked her lips more greedily, licking and nipping, making her moan out loud.

Coppery taste of her blood from her split lip rolled over his tongue, making something inside of him stir and pace restlessly. He pushed her up, cutting the contact, concentrating to her breasts instead. Palming them, worrying the nipples between his fingers until they were rock hard, taut peaks and she was nearly sobbing, rubbing her already wet mound over his hard length over and over again.

She leaned over his chest, licking one flat nipple experimentally. It caused Logan to groan and buck his hips against hers; crushing his straining erection between their bodies and making it rub against her clitoris. She repeated her action with his other nipple, giving it a gentle nip with her teeth. Logan’s hand wound in her hair, dragging her up again.
“Don’t.” His eyes were a lighter shade of brown than usual, small golden flecks making their way to the surface, giving his irises yellowish glow.

He let go of her hair when he was sure she had gotten the message. She leaned down again, this time nipping and suckling his throat. It made him arch his back and growl from pleasure. He could feel her slick folds around his cock, the throbbing core just waiting to be filled. He rolled them over, making her let out a surprised gasp. That gasp turned soon to a delighted mewl when he sheathed his cock in to her.

This time there was no pain. She cried out loud from pleasure when she felt him slide in, thick and hot length filling her completely. She wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Christ…” Logan whispered through clenched teeth before bending his head and taking her lips to a searing kiss.

He eased out slowly before pushing back in, small but strong muscles clenching around him rhythmically, milking him. He had often imagined what it would feel like, but nothing had prepared him for this feeling of slick, tight heat that enveloped him. He sucked in one pert nipple and her core gripped his shaft even tighter, making him hiss and let go of her breast.

She was teetering between clear and incoherent, tightening in her stomach spreading rapidly through her whole body. Her palms against Logan’s heaving chest, his head thrown backwards, throat bared to her, hips rolling against hers with steady pace that was slowly driving her crazy. She let her legs slide down from his hips, thighs spreading further apart and nearly screamed when the change of the angle made him bump against her clitoris every time he moved. Logan bent his head, pressing his forehead against hers, locking his hooded gaze to her eyes. They were both falling, tumbling over the edge. Muscles straining, sudden jolt making their eyes water.

She lay on the bed, whole body still tingling, muscles lax, and watched Logan getting dressed. He had pulled out fresh pair of jeans and a black T-shirt from the backpack, and was strapping on his guns.
“I’ll go and find us a new set of wheels. You can wait here. Keep the door locked,” He said, diving once more in to the battered bag and pulling out a black bundle of leather. A jacket. It hid the holsters strapped to his arms and sides. It also carried a selection of different kind of electronic gadgets she could see before Logan zipped it up.
“I should be back within two hours. Wait here,” he said, walking to her and leaning to kiss her before walking out.

Two hours. It was a long time to wait. Anything could happen. She curled on her side, under quilt and pressed her face against the pillow where Logan had slept just an hour ago. She knew he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Yet she couldn’t stop the barrage of images that bombarded her mind when she closed her eyes. Logan dead. Logan dying. Logan captured. Logan tortured. Logan running. Logan lying on the pool of blood. Logan standing up and raising his gaze, yellow indifferent eyes staring through her like she was nothing but thin air…

He would have much rather stayed with Marie, wrapped up to her scent and warm embrace, but he had a bad feeling that they had already wasted too much time. He descended the stairs to the ground level, passing the clerk who sat behind his counter reading a magazine. Reading. Times were really changing when they could afford to keep that talented individual in that kind of job.

Logan shrugged off the last vestiges of sleep and stepped outside, pausing briefly and stepped back in. Street outside was crowded, crawling with the usual, ragged crowd. Yet something felt off. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He straightened his shoulders and stepped back out again, pushing through the crowd, parting it with his mere presence.

He didn’t know what had made him choose the cocky attitude instead of more careful one, but obviously it had been a good choice. Instead of Hunters and Guards he could detect a gang of sneaky looking teenagers, armed to the tooth with dangerous looking, self-made weapons, slinking back to shadowed alleys from the sight of him. Snorting for his paranoia he scanned through the maze of adverts and road signs until he found what he was looking for.

Rickety warehouse was filled with cars, motorcycles and trucks. Old and battered, new and shiny, and part of them something between those two. He scanned the rows of vehicles briefly, his eyes landing to the right one almost instantly.
“This one.” Owner of the place approached him, rubbing his palms together.
“Good choice. Good choice. Very durable and low maintenance and…”
“Shut your trap. How much?” Logan grunted, smoothing his palm over slightly rusted coating of his purchase. Merchant eyed him from head to toe, assessing him.
“Free for you. But get the hell out of here before the evening. They’re going to close down this whole settlement,” old, gnarled man said, handing him the keys to the hummer, flashing a forked tongue briefly between his thin lips. A mutant. Logan nodded.
“Thanks for the advice. You need anything?” He asked. There was not much he could, or even would do, but after all, it was only polite to offer to repay the favor. Old man shook his head.
“No need to worry over me… I’m too old for their purposes. And only car dealer in this hellhole. You think these kind people would let them take me?”

Transportation taken care of Logan set off to find food, water and clothes for them. All three he found easily enough from the marketplace. When he was returning from the garage back to the Inn, the group of teenagers he had seen earlier approached him.
“You should leave. Now. We don’t want any troubles,” biggest of the group, burly looking boy whose head barely reached Logan’s shoulder spoke.
“I’m not planning to stay any longer than it’s necessary,” Logan said, wondering silently if everybody around here was a mutant. Boy nodded, group retreated and let him pass.

Scent of Marie’s fear hit him squarely to face when he walked in to the Inn. Yet he found no signs of unusual activity or disturbances. He took the stairs two steps at time and was pounding on their door just as her shrill scream pierced the air.
“Marie!” Foot encased to a heavy boot made short work of the locks on the door.

She bolted up from the sound of door breaking open and kept screaming long after it had registered that it was Logan. Logan who crossed the floor with few strides and pulled her against him, smoothing her tousled hair, murmuring quiet whispers until she calmed down.
“It was you… But it wasn’t you… You didn’t even know me! You just stood there and stared right trough me!” She was crying now instead of screaming, sharp and bitter sobs, and small fists pounding against his back while he held her.
“Hush. It was just a dream. Just a dream, Marie. I’m here now.” She pulled away from his embrace, seeking his eyes.
“Do you see me? Do you know who I am?” She asked with a trembling voice.
“Of course I do.”
“Good. Because yesterday you didn’t.”
“Okay. Hold that thought. Put these on. We have to leave, but we’ll talk about yesterday later,” Logan said, shoving a bundle of clothes to her. Jeans, T-shirt and a jacket, much similar attire as his. But where his jacket was leather, hers was made from more rigid and heavier material.
“It’s coated with Kevlar, and there’s an adamantium mesh sewn inside of the lining. Should stop anything they can throw at us. I doubt that the merchant even knew what she was selling. Wonder where she got this…” Logan murmured when she pulled the jacket on, flexing her hands and twisting her waist to see if she could still move wearing it.
“Messengers wear these on the field.”

“This is our new car?” She asked, tilting her head. Rusted rectangular heap on six wheels didn’t exactly scream speed and safety.
“Hop in. This will do just fine,” Logan said, walking to the back of the car, checking it once more before returning to the driver’s side of it. Marie opened the door carefully, expecting to hear agonized creak and door to fell off from its hinges. Instead it opened smoothly, without making a sound. Surprisingly comfortable seat engulfed her when she sat in; molding against her back like it was designed for her. Dashboard in front of her was filled with meters, small blinking lights and switches.
“Is this a car or an airplane?” She asked when Logan sat in, pushing the key to the ignition.
“Bit of both, I guess. And a tank. Just what we need. Doesn’t come with a bathroom, but there’s a small cot in the back if you want to take a nap, and storage lockers. And what’s best about this, this hasn’t belonged to Army. They don’t use this model.”

“Now… about what you said earlier…” Logan said when they were driving out of the settlement.
“About me not knowing you. What was that all about?” For a moment she pondered what to say. She didn’t want him to bolt, retreat from her. Not now when things were finally starting to look better.
“It was nothing. Just a stupid dream,” she said, trying to pretend that the scenery outside was interesting.
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Logan growled.
“I have to know. I have a gap in my memory. Can’t remember a thing that happened after I got us in to that room.”
“It was nothing. You were really tired. I helped you to get cleaned up. You were little out of it, like you didn’t know me, or something. And your eyes…” She stopped talking, afraid that she had already said too much when Logan cringed.

“My eyes. What about my eyes?”
“They were different.”
“Different? Bigger? Smaller? They were yellow, weren’t they?” Logan asked. She nodded.
“Shit. Oh, fucking shit. What did I do? Did I say something? Did I do something?”
“You just stood and stared. Like you really didn’t even see me. You did everything I asked you to do, but it was like… Like you didn’t even know I was there. No. That’s not right. You knew I was there, but it didn’t matter. Like I was part of furnishing. An object. Nothing interesting. Certainly not worth of interest.” They sat in silence for a while. To Marie it felt like eternity. Logan was stealing glances from her from the corner of his eye, biting his lower lip, obviously trying to decide what to say.
“If you see me like that ever again, walk away. Walk away from me. Slowly. Don’t even try to get my attention. Okay?” He finally said with a hollow voice.
“I won’t probably attack. You’re too small to pose a threat. I probably thought you were a Mechanic…”
“What are you talking about?” Won’t probably attack? Was she supposed to start to be afraid of him, too?
“You met Wolverine. The Destroyer.”

Logan was driving and fiddling with the devices mounted on the dashboard, adding the ones from his jacket there as well, hooking them together with wires. Marie was sitting, mulling the situation over and over again in her head. Logan was still Logan. There were bad guys after them. What happened if Logan became that other? The Wolverine?

“It’s still me. Just very, very fucked up version of me. They managed to root out everything that made me human. For a Destroyer everything is black and white. It’s either hostile, or not. If target is hostile, it’s a threat and must be dealt with equally. If target’s not a threat, no reaction is needed if not asked otherwise.” Logan had explained and repeated his earlier command to walk away from Wolverine.
“And if you can’t walk… Try to stay unnoticed.”

Loud beeping woke her from her thoughts and she jumped, turning to look at what Logan was doing. He smiled sheepishly, pressing some buttons below green screen next to the steering wheel, and beeping stopped.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. It’s a radar.”
“Radar?” She had heard the word before, but couldn’t remember what it meant.
“See this screen?” Logan said, tapping the small, green rectangular. She nodded.
“Extra pair of eyes. From here we can see anything alive within five kilometers radius around this vehicle.”
“Oh…”

“How do you know so much about this stuff?” Marie asked. What she had seen fit very poorly together with the common image of a Destroyer, filthy, animal-like mindless beast.
“At the beginning of the War they were dabbling with us. Experimenting. Trying to create a perfect soldier. Taught us all kinds of neat tricks. Then they realized that it was kind of pointless to squander money to training, when average unit’s expected lifespan on the field was less than ten seconds.” Suddenly she wasn’t so interested about the topic anymore.

“Where are we going?” she asked. Logan shrugged his shoulders.
“Figured I would keep on driving until we can be sure they’re not following us anymore.”
“What about gas? Doesn’t this car need fuel?”
“Nope. We have solar panels on the roof, and hydrogen cells under the hood.”
“Christ! This must have cost you a fortune!” She gasped.
“Merchant was a mutant. Gave this to me for free.”
“Why? And where did he get this?” Marie asked. Again Logan shrugged.
“Beats me. Didn’t stop to ask.”
“What if there’s some sort of tracking device hidden in here? What if this really belongs to the Army?” Marie asked, eyes widening.
“Don’t worry,” Logan said, patting his breast pocket.
“This little guy would have made a noise if there was something extra in here,” he said, pulling out a small metal box.

She walked around the car, stretching her legs, groaning from relief. They had driven for hours, until Logan had stopped. He was sitting on the hood of the car, cigar clamped between his teeth.
“There’s food in the back of this beast,” he said, patting the hood with his palm. Marie climbed next to him and leaned against his side.
“I’m not hungry. But I could use little cuddling up.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Logan grunted, draping his arm over her shoulders and pulling her closer.
“It’s so beautiful out here,” Marie whispered. Sun had set an hour ago. Full moon colored the scenery with silver and blue.

“Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead,” Logan said.
“Why did you escape from the Army?”
“Huh?” Logan was staring at her like she suddenly grew a second head to her shoulders.
“What you told me… You made it sound like you were a machine. Machines don’t have feelings. What made you want to run?”
“Same guys had been guarding me too long. I had had the same Mechanic too long. They treated me as a person. A dangerous one, but still a person. It made me start to think. I wasn’t really planning to escape, but then that fire broke out, and I just did.” Logan paused and puffed his cigar for a moment.
“That side of me… Wolverine. It’s built to survive. Nothing else matters.”

Logan threw away the stub of his cigar and slid down from the hood of the car. Cracked his neck and stretched his back.
“We should get going.” Marie nodded and slid towards him, legs ending to both sides of his.
“Let me down?” She asked. Logan shook his head.
“Not yet.” His hands cupped her face and he leaned closer, to kiss her. Soft, tender kiss to her forehead. Then another to her lips. Her hands delved under his jacket when he deepened the kiss, trailing down his chest, curling around his sides and ending to rest palms flat against his lower back.
“You matter to me,” Logan whispered when their lips parted.
“And you matter to me…” He leaned his forehead against hers; clearly struggling with something, eyes pinched shut and throat working furiously. His hands gripped her waist, rustling the cloth of her jacket.

First time in his life he mattered to somebody.

“Okay… Time to get moving,” he said, clearing his throat and lifting her to the ground when radar in the car suddenly reacted and started to send out signal.
“Five of them. Approaching fast. But that can’t be right…” Logan muttered, tapping the screen lightly.
“What’s wrong?” Marie asked, strapping on the seatbelt.
“Direction. Settlement is north from us. They’re coming from south. And way too fast… Shit. Stay in. Lock the doors.” Logan stepped out when beams of light swept over the car.

They were small hovercrafts, not much bigger than an average motorcycle. Drivers were dressed to black leather from head to toe, and wore matching black helmets. They surrounded the car. Logan shrugged guns from their strappings to his hands, training them to a driver that had jumped off from the saddle. Driver lifted his hands. Logan caught a glimpse; a reflection from his visor just as car door jerked open behind him and Marie shouted a warning. He ducked, but not fast enough. He heard a soft swoosh, and something stung the side of his neck. He grasped it and stared it dumbly. Small, green arrow.

“Logan!” He could hear Marie screaming, calling him. His field of vision narrowed and his knees started to buckle. He turned to the direction of her voice, took a step towards her and fell flat on his face. His last thought turned off the lights before it left the building.

Logan was down, unconscious. Maybe dead. She was screaming and struggling, but it was futile. Man that held her hauled her back in the car effortlessly before sitting on the driver’s seat and turning on the engine. She tried to jump out, but man dug a syringe from his pocket and emptied it to her bare neck with precision that would have put many nurses in shame. She fell limply against her seat, drug making her feel dizzy, draining all her strength.

He woke up slowly, blinking when fluorescent lights above him made his eyes water. Took in his surroundings. Cold metal under his back. Equally cold metal around his wrists and ankles. Thick metal band securing his neck to the metal slab he lay on. White walls and roof. Glittering chrome equipments scattered all around him. He turned his head as far as the band allowed, to get a better view and pitiful whimper escaped from his lips. Marie lay next to him, unconscious and strapped down to a metal table similar manner as him. That whimper turned to a furious growl when a masked figure wearing a lab coat entered the room. Figure didn’t even flinch, just ignored him and walked to Marie, taking a stethoscope and a cuff and measured her blood pressure.
“Female, approximately twenty years old. Subject seems to be in good health. No ill response to sedation. Subject has manifested, and mutation is active. I recommend we continue quarantine yet another week at least.”

Voice belonged to a woman. When she had finished with Marie, she turned to Logan. Now he could see small recorder in her hand.
“Male, approximately thirty-five years old. Subject is in good health. No ill response to sedation. Subject has manifested, and mutation is active. I recommend we continue quarantine yet another week at least.” Woman prattled the litany to the recorder before pocketing it and measuring his blood pressure.
“What the fuck is going on?” Logan snarled. He knew from experience that this was no Army operation. Woman didn’t answer, just put away the stethoscope and the cuff and left. As soon as door had closed behind her, it opened again. Two masked figures walked in. One took a hold of Marie’s gurney and the other started carting Logan. Again he tried to ask what was happening, but he could have gotten an answer much easier from a brick wall than their captors.

To his amazement men, they clearly were men, pushed both gurneys to the same room, retreating. Some sort of force field closed the doorway, and restraints on him and Marie clicked open. He sprung to his feet and snatched Marie’s limb body to his arms, retreating to the furthest corner of the room. Gurneys seemed to have a life of their own. As soon as their weight was off from them, they retreated from the room through the force field.

They still had their clothes on, and what puzzled Logan at no end, was the fact that they hadn’t taken his weapons. Guns were still in their holsters.
“Marie?” He shook her lightly. There was no answer. Her eyes stayed closed, breathing shallow. Logan slid to the floor, back against the wall, her warm form clutched against his chest. His eyes scanned the room around them. Again white walls. Doorway that was glowing blue light. Soft-looking narrow bed. Toilet seat and sink next to it on the opposite wall of the bed. No surveillance cameras as far as he could detect.
“Looks like we’re screwed again, kid…” He whispered, more to himself than to Marie.

“Come on, Marie… Wake up. You’re starting to scare me…” His nose and ears told him there was nothing wrong. She didn’t smell sick or injured. Her heartbeat and breathing were steady, peaceful, but they had been cooped up to this cell for several hours already, and she showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

“Wake the fuck up!” Angry growl and hard slap on her cheek pulled her awake. She bolted up, away from who ever had slapped her, and regretted that move immediately. Somebody had replaced her knees with rubber, brain with cotton wads, and stuffed some sort of dead animal down her throat. She fell on the floor.
“Get up.” Rough hands around her arms, fingers digging to muscle, dragging her up and forward.
“Get up and move those fucking legs.” That voice. She knew that voice. Logan. She tried to stand up, tried to tell him it was okay. She was awake now.
“You’re going to walk, or you’re going to cry and walk. Which is it?” He was shaking her like a rag doll, dragging her around. Funny. She thought they had gotten away from the desert, but here they were again. And she wanted to sleep. But first she was going to puke. What ever she had been eating, it wasn’t co-operating with her stomach.
“Good. Let it all out.” Toilet bowl? There was a toilet bowl in the middle of a freaking desert? Trust Logan to find one from oddest of places…
“Here. Rinse your mouth.” Water. Good. But wait a fucking minute!

“You said we had no fucking water!” She spat, struggling to get free from his hold. Logan let go of her and backed away few steps.
“You awake?” She heard him asking. She couldn’t answer. Fresh bout of nausea made her gag and sputter, kneel in front of the toilet bowl again. Her stomach cramped and heaved, but nothing came out. Logan’s hands landed on her shoulders, massaging gently.
“Drink this.” White paper cup, filled with water. She took it, rinsed her mouth again before actually drinking. Her head started to clear slowly.
“Where are we? I remember that they shot you and… What is this place?”
“Don’t have a clue. I woke up in some kind of a lab. You were there, too. They carted us in here and left,” Logan said, taking the empty cup from her and filling it again.
“Drink. I don’t know what they used to knock you out, but more you drink, faster it leaves your system.”
“In a lab? What did they do to us?” She gasped horrified.
“Nothing as far as I can tell. Took our blood pressure and threw us in here. They even let me keep my guns…” Suddenly force field on the door flickered once, then twice before disappearing completely.

“What do you see?” Marie whispered her question. Logan had sneaked to the doorway, and once he was sure the force field was really off, he had eased partly out of the room to take a peek.
“Another room. Bigger one. I don’t know… Looks like somebody’s home…” Logan whispered, gesturing her to come closer.
“Stay close.”

They stepped out to a space that reminded a comfortable living room. A couch, few armchairs and row after row books on a shelf lined to the wall. Soft carpets on the floor. Even a small fireplace with crackling fire in it. On a table in front of it was a tray, covered with white cloth.
“This is weird…” Marie started and let out a startled gasp when force field behind them flickered back to life, blocking their entrance to the smaller room. Simultaneously a part of opposite wall disappeared, revealing yet another room. They could see a table, and chairs around it. Cupboards lining the walls. An envelope on the table. Two doors, two real doors at the far wall of that room.
“Come on,” Logan urged, taking her hand and they entered to what appeared to be a kitchen. Logan picked up the envelope. Plain white, no scents on it. No other than paper, and ink. He tore it open.

**Welcome to the Free Zone. You’re quarantined. You will find food and clean clothes from the quarantine facility around you. Once that it’s established that you carry no infections, you will be released, and can become a part of our society.**

“Free Zone?” Marie asked when Logan cursed and tore the paper.
“I have heard about this place. Thought it was just a rumor. This is supposed to be some sort of haven for mutants. Safe place, hidden from the Army.” Marie squealed, clapped her hands and jumped from delight, but grim lines on Logan’s face made her smile falter.
“This isn’t a good thing?” She asked. Logan forced a small smile on his face.
“I’m not sure. Might be. But I have my suspicions…”

Next hour they spent inspecting their prison. Prison it was, even if cozier than most of those. From behind closed doors in the kitchen they found small bathroom, and a bedroom. Cupboards held dishes and were stocked with dried food products. There was soap and shampoo in the bathroom, as well as toothpaste and toothbrushes. Fire in the fireplace at the living room wasn’t real, but some sort of holographic projection. Books were real. On a tray, under the cloth was a metal cylinder with two porcelain cups. Logan opened the cylinder and took a careful sniff.
“Coffee. Relatively fresh. Want some?” He asked, pouring himself a cup and slumping to an armchair in front of the false fire.
“Go on. It’s not poisoned,” he said when Marie hesitated. She poured herself a cup and settled on the floor, leaning her head against his knee.

“Couldn’t find any surveillance. No cameras, no bugs. Couldn’t find a door to outside either. Looks like were stuck.”
“Well, there are worse places we could be stuck in,” Marie said, glancing around. Logan snorted.
“Prison is a prison. Doesn’t matter how pretty curtains you drape over its windows. But don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get us out of here. No surveillance means than somebody has to come and check up on us sooner or later…”

When something finally happened, it wasn’t what Logan had expected.

They had spent few moments discussing their options and sipping coffee. Marie was starting to relax, but something kept Logan on his toes. There was no identifiable threat, nothing tangible to point out and shout warning, but his whole nervous system was buzzing, sending alarm. He was about to shrug it off, to turn his back on his instincts when soft whirr coming from the ceiling made them both look up. What they saw made Marie scream, and Logan cringe.

There were few spotlights mounted on the ceiling, much like in Logan’s bunker had been. Grey smoke started to waft from under those lamps, falling towards the floor.
“Gas. Some sort of gas. Get up… Get up!” Logan pulled Marie up when grey mist swirled around their ankles. Level of it was rising rapidly, and soon it filled their quarters completely. Marie went down first, coughing and spluttering, trying to hold her breath as long as possible. It was useless effort. Logan could only watch, lungs burning and eyes watering when she lost consciousness once again. He lay next to her, feeling already dizzy, and curled around her, locking her to his embrace. No matter what would happen he wasn’t going to let go of her.

When room cleared from the gas and masked men entered, pushing a gurney in front of them, Logan bolted on his feet. He wasn’t hundred percent, not even close, but he was awake. As long as he was awake and alive, nobody would lay a hand on Marie. Claws erupted from his clenched fists. He staggered slightly, took a swipe towards the masked men but missed. Instead of cutting flesh and bone he only managed to scratch the gurney men had shoved him with before other of them pulled a gun and shot him. Instead of small, green dart very real bullet tore through the right side of his chest, just below his collarbone and he fell flat on his back.

He had been abusing his mutation for days, relying too much on it. Trusting it would take what ever got thrown on him. That last blow had been the last straw. It was a bitter realization. He could only squirm on rapidly growing warm pool of his own blood when men walked past him, grabbed Marie, lifted her to the gurney and disappeared to the room from which Logan and Marie had originally entered to their quarters. He tried to crawl after them, got as far as to the doorway, before blue force field flickered back on. Through it he could see the woman wearing the lab coat undressing Marie. Opening her jacket and shirts, pulling off jeans. Last thing he saw before blood loss rendered him unconscious was that same woman strapping Marie’s legs to stirrups and pulling a chair between her legs.

He woke up from the bed. He still had his pants on, but somebody had taken his jacket and shirt off and bandaged his wound. Marie lay next to him, naked. Their clothes were neatly folded on a chair next to the bed, and on top of them were his guns. There was an envelope on the nightstand. It wasn’t as interesting as Marie. She had a new scent on her. Scent that he knew from memory. Artificial hormones. Birth control.

“Marie?” He whispered, rolling on his side and drawing her closer, against his chest. She woke up, gasping for air and screaming.
“Hush… It’s okay; I’m here. We’re okay…” He held her and kept whispering until she calmed down.
“What happened? I feel so… My hand hurts and I feel so sticky and…” Her hand flew to the juncture of her thighs. Fearing that her fingers would find blood. But she had to know. When she brought it up, there was only clear fluid on her fingertips.
“They examined you. That’s probably some sort of lubricant. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep you safe. I tried but…”
“Why would they examin me from down there?”
“To see if you were pregnant.”
“And how the fuck it would have been anybody’s business if I had been?” It was a good question. A question Logan did have several answers, not one of them pleasant.
“What is this?” Marie asked, fingers brushing over bandage on his chest. Small droplets of blood had seeped through already.
“Nothing. It’ll heal in time.”

He reached for the envelope and opened it.

**We apologize any possible discomfort caused to you. You both have been vaccinated, and you have been given a birth control injection. Free Zone doesn’t encourage occupants breeding randomly. Injections will continue monthly, until genetically suitable partner has been found. Thank you for your cooperation.**

“Genetically suitable? That doesn’t sound normal…” Marie whispered.
“It doesn’t. It sounds plain weird. Like everything else that has happened in here. We have to find a way to get out,” Logan said, sitting up. He groaned when sudden movement made his head spin alarmingly and leaned back on the bed.
“You really are hurt!” Marie gasped. Cold sweat had broken to Logan’s skin and he was pale as the sheet they lay on.
“I’ll be alright… Stop fussing.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, willing away the dizziness and nausea settling on him. He struggled back up, leaning his elbows to his knees, resting his forehead against his knuckles. Bile rose to the back of his throat, but he forced it back. Now wasn’t the time to be sick and hurt. It was time to break out from this compound.

“Gather everything you can carry. Food, clothes, that kind of stuff,” He told to Marie, standing up and pulling on his shirt.
“Is it safe? I mean the food.”
“They haven’t tried to kill us. I doubt it’s poisoned.” He checked his guns. Everything seemed to be okay. Except the fact that he didn’t have any spare ammunition, and only one of them had a full clip left. It would have to be enough. He couldn’t risk using his claws, not with impaired healing.
“How are we going to get out?” Marie asked, pulling on her jeans.
“Through that force field. I’ll go and see if I can break it.”

She stuffed their backpack she had found to the brim, piling fresh change of clothes for them both to the bottom, several pouches of rations and small bottles of water on top. After a moments hesitation she retrieved the shampoo, soap and toothbrushes from the bathroom. Small luxuries. When she returned to Logan, he was leaning against the doorframe, face mere inches from the force field, gazing upwards. He extended a finger and brushed against the blue glow. Nothing happened.
“It feels solid. Cold.” He spread his palm and pressed it against the field.
“And it comes straight through the wall. No weak spots, no laser eyes to break.”
“But there’s just a room behind it. What’s the point to break in there?” Marie asked.
“After they gassed us, I saw that doctor in there with you. One of the walls was missing. There has to be some sort of cloaking device what they use to hide entrances around here.”

“Let’s see…” Logan trailed his fingers along the doorframe, looking for any weaknesses. It was useless. His eyes told him he was looking at a doorway, but his fingers told him there was a solid wall in front of him.
“Shit.”
“Can I look?” Marie asked. He moved over.

She had never done it before, but something told her it could be done. She placed both of her hands against the force field and breathed deeply. She could already feel the power seeping through her skin.
“I don’t know if this will work, but as soon as the field goes off, grab me and pull us through,” she said, concentrating to her mutation. Trying to make it take in more. More of the power that was pulsing under her palms.

It was cold. So cold she felt her blood cooling. Blue light danced behind her closed eyelids. She could feel it rattling over her skin. Blue. Blue world around her. She was drowning, but the power of the flow was already weakening. She was consuming it, welcoming it in to her. It was cool, blue, calm and radiant, filling her with power, and it felt so good…
“Marie?” No. Blue. Pretty blue glow that was now flickering in front of her, diminishing. She whimpered and tried to grasp it tighter, but it was crumbling under her palms, evaporating.
“Marie?”
“Now!”

Field was coming down. Doorway was opening. Marie was radiating that same blue light the field had pulsed just few minutes ago. When she spoke, her voice was cold and hollow.
“Now!” He grabbed her and pushed them through the now open doorway and they stumbled to the other room. Field behind them closed immediately, leaving them trapped to the room where they had woken up first. And Marie was still glowing, blue mist hovering and pulsing around her. Brown eyes completely engulfed with cold light of it.
“Which wall?” She asked. For a moment he could just stare at her.
“Which wall, goddamned?” She repeated her question, puffing blue clouds of mist with every breath. Logan pointed at the wall he remembered seeing open. Marie walked to it, palms flat in front of her and leaned against the concrete surface. Wall in front of her started to evaporate, crumble under her touch.

He didn’t quite know how they had gotten out. He didn’t know where they were. He was carrying Marie, just Marie now, on his arms. Running through a forest, waiting to hear the sound of hovercrafts from behind at any second now. Small rubble and twigs under his heels crackling and rolling, branches snagging him, slapping his face. He kept pushing forward blindly. He had left the outer perimeter of the compound behind just few moments ago. Compound. Right. What was left of it. Crumbled slabs of concrete. Personnel either crushed under the debris or eradicated by Marie.

Power she had harnessed from the field containing them had been unbelievable. The way she had unleashed it against their captors made Logan shiver from both fear and arousal. Blue glow seeping out from her whole being, mist around her eating away everything it touched almost instantly, turning humans and the building itself to dust. He had prepared to fight their way out of there, but all he had had to do was to walk behind Marie, and stay away from the radiating tendrils of mist that had wafted around her. Mist had eaten away her clothes; leaving only the adamantium core of her jacket, and it had hung on her like a chain mail.

He remembered reading a book about ancient warriors called Vikings. They believed in afterlife, and to a place called Valhalla. After a warrior died, a Valkyrie came to take his soul to there. He glanced at the girl sleeping on his arms. Valkyrie. She had gotten his heart and body when she had told him that he mattered to her. Her display of pure power back at the Free Zone had granted her his soul as well. He could only hope that she wouldn’t sprout wings and fly away with it.

He had to stop when his legs threatened to give up. He stood panting, leaning his back against a tree and tried to listen. His left hand felt cold. Blood had seeped through the bandage on his chest long ago, and was no dribbling down his torso, soaking the waistband of his jeans. He let Marie slide to the ground when he couldn’t hear any unusual sounds. They weren’t followed.
“And who the fuck would even follow us, you fucking moron?” He muttered. Destruction of the Free Zone had been complete. He slouched down and squirmed off the backpack from his shoulders. His stomach twisted and rumbled alarmingly when he accidentally brushed against his wounded shoulder. He was so fucking tired, hungry and cold.

Marie was still sleeping. After they had gotten out from the Free Zone blue mist had vanished from around her, and glow in her eyes had dimmed. She had collapsed. At first he had been hesitant to touch her, but few experimental pokes assured him that there was no danger anymore, and he had scooped her up to his arms and started running, acting on pure instinct, trying to get as far from the threatening situation as possible.

“Kid?” He reached to jab her slightly, trying to rouse her from her stupor.
“Wake up.” He was going to crash soon. Before that he had to make sure she was all right. She had to be all right. There was no other option. He tried to lean closer and shake her shoulder, but he found out his left hand refused to cooperate anymore. He tried with his right, but it was impossible to reach to his left side without aggravating the wound on his shoulder even more. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the tree behind him and cleared his throat.
“Marie!” She moved a little, curled to her side and muttered something he didn’t quite catch. That was a good sign. She really was just sleeping, not unconscious. He opened the backpack with his good hand and fumbled with its contents a bit before his fingers closed around a bottle. Cold. It would make him even colder, but there were no options. He had to drink. He had already lost too many fluids.

He emptied the bottle with few powerful pulls. He could feel his stomach cramping and complaining, but he told it to fuck it. Looked at the empty bottle in his hand. Then Marie. Yeah. It could work.
“Marie!” His throat started to hurt, but at least he had made an honest effort to wake her before he retorted to desperate measures. He weighed the bottle in his hand. Plastic. Light as air. He gathered all the strength he still had left, and threw it. It hit her on the face, and her eyes blinked open.
“What the fuck was that for!” He heard Marie shout before he dove in to darkness.

“You fucking told me you would be alright! Don’t you give up on me now!” She had stripped off his jacket and shirt to see the wound. Bandage had slid off on its own because of the all blood it had absorbed. Jagged hole, wide enough to stuck a finger in it run through his upper chest, bleeding sluggishly. His skin was cold, and had a grayish hue on it. She pressed her ear against his chest to listen his heart. It was there. Steady, strong pulse. She retreated and reached for the backpack, to see if there was something she could use to cover the wound, when surprisingly strong hand gripped her hair and forced her face to face with yellow-eyed beast.

“Identification?” Wolverine spoke with low, hushed tone, eyes scanning her from head to toe. She nearly wet herself out of fear and closed her eyes. Grip from her hair tightened, and Wolverine pulled her closer. She could hear him taking in her scent.
“Civilian,” Wolverine snorted contempt and shoved her away. She crawled away reaching for the backpack, and snatched it to herself before Wolverine got his hand on it. Destroyer lunged at his feet; teeth bared and with few swift strides closed the gap between them, grabbing her again with his good hand. Injured hand rose, brushing her chin briefly, before settling under her jaw. She could feel claws straining the skin, threatening to cut her. And a word rose to her mind. Something Logan had muttered when they had discussed about her earlier encounter with the beast.
“Mechanic! I’m a Mechanic!”

“Fix me.” As soon as words had left her mouth Wolverine’s attitude towards her had changed. From angry and enraged to mildly curious and commanding under a second.
“I don’t have any equipment…” She stammered. Wolverine snorted and dropped her to the ground.
“I got lost and… I lost everything…” Wolverine was sitting down, leaning against the tree again.
“I don’t fucking care. Fix me. That’s what you’re here for.”

“What the fuck are you waiting for? A formal invitation? Plug this fucking hole in me!” Wolverine snarled when she just stood there, feet practically glued to the ground. Just his luck. Stumble upon a shell shocked Mechanic when he really could have used some help. Well, fuck her. He could take a short nap while waiting for the Mechanic to snap out of her stupor. Blood would clot eventually. His mutation would kick back in sooner or later.

Yellow eyes blinked, head started to droop. With every new breath his breathing got shallower. He was starting to tremble. His muscles were twitching. It was Wolverine, but underneath somewhere was Logan. Marie approached him carefully.
“What do you want?” Wolverine barked, eyes flashing open.
“I want to help. Is that okay?” Wolverine’s head lolled back against the tree.
“Go ahead. I’m going to sleep now.”

It never failed. Feign sleeping, and they were not so afraid of you anymore. This one even smelled slightly worried. Worried and crying. She would learn fast not to care. She had a light touch. Cold fingers, but that was expected. She was naked. Wonder what had happened to her?
“I’m going to clean the wound now…” She was whispering. Whispering and crying.
“Ah… Shit…” That really hurt. And now she was crying even more.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. And stop crying. You’re a fucking lousy Mechanic if you’re going to cry over every unit.”
“There. It’s done now.”
“Good. Scoot. Go and see if anybody else needs you. You’re first Mech we have seen in weeks.”
“Okay…”

Wolverine was really sleeping now. She had torn Logan’s bloodied shirt and used it and water to clean his wound. Then she had dressed it with what was left of the shirt. Not much, but it was better than nothing. She dug in the backpack and pulled out clothes for herself. Got dressed and ate. Risked waking the Wolverine again by walking to him and covering him with Logan’s jacket. Destroyer just mumbled and shifted a bit in his sleep, then curled to the ground on his side and continued sleeping.

She knew she should have left. She knew she should be walking away. That’s what Logan had told her to do, but she couldn’t bring herself to abandon him now, when he needed her most. She could only hope it would be Logan who woke up next instead of the Wolverine.

Hot. It was so fucking hot. He was burning up in scorching inferno. He could feel his skin blistering and peeling off; muscles turning stiff and useless, frying like a fucking steak. Metal frame inside of him gathering heat, flesh falling off from it in big chunks. Too hot. Too fucking hot. And girl was there. So small, so scared, plastering her slim figure against him. Girl. Marie. And she was burning. Burning like dry leaf, grasping his arm, climbing on his lap, nuzzling against his fiery embrace and burning, burning, melting away…

Logan bolted up with horrified cry, claws slicing their way out involuntarily, heart hammering in his chest in triple time. Cry turned to a pitiful moan when he saw Marie, sitting in front of him, worried look on her face.
“No… No, no… Not real. Not happening…” Marie scooted closer and reached with her hands.
“Too hot, too hot! Don’t touch!” He was burning up. What was she trying to do? He backed away hastily, kicking with his feet, sliding his buttocks on the ground until he felt something solid behind his back. She was approaching, and talking something, but he couldn’t hear a thing over the crackling of the flames that were consuming him.
“No! Don’t! It’s too hot!” He pushed with his hands and feet, tried to get away from her, but she was closing in fast, straddling his thighs and cradling his face between her palms. Any second now she would turn to ashes and crumble to the wind. Any second. He closed his eyes and folded his arms around her, fighting the tears that threatened to escape. If it were what she wanted, he would give it to her. Then he would find a way to follow her.

Logan’s mutation was apparently working again, blood hadn’t squirted from his knuckles when he had unsheathed his claws, but he had practically fallen to pieces in front of her, and Marie didn’t have a clue about what had caused it. He was nearly crushing her with his grip and kept whispering something over and over while sobbing and gasping for air.
“It’s all right… It’s all right…”
“I got you, Logan. Everything’s going to be all right,” she whispered to him, hoping it would calm him down. It only caused him to crush her against his chest harder and change the mantra he was whispering. Instead of reassurances he started pleading for forgiveness. An apology after another until his voice, already hoarse at the beginning, disappeared completely and she could only feel his words from the way his lips moved against the skin of her throat. Time after time she forgave him, not even knowing what she was forgiving.

His brain was kicking back in gear, slowly but steady. Claws slid back in their sheaths. He started to take in his surroundings, not daring to open his eyes. Not yet. Scents. Marie’s scent was on top. She was wrapped all around him, like a blanket. Through her scent filtered moss, dirt and pine. Blood and sweat. Tears. He opened his eyes carefully. Creamy flawless skin. He blinked couple of times. Blue vein throbbing just inches from his nose. Jugular. Marie’s jugular. It was pulsing. Under her skin. Like it should be.

“Better now?” He heard her asking. He cleared his throat.
“Yeah,” Logan answered. She rose to look at him.
“We got out from there?” Logan asked with a thick voice. She nodded.
“Good. I remember… I remember something. You. Don’t ever let me piss you off, kid,” he said, chucking her chin with his knuckles playfully, offering her a wavering smile.
“It was that bad?” She asked.
“You don’t remember?” She shook her head.
“I remember that I was cold. And there was something blue…”
“You were like a fucking Goddess,” Logan whispered, clasping her face between his palms.
“A Goddess…” He murmured, pulling her closer and brushing her lips with his own, breathing in her scent and taste. Marie’s cool lips pressed against his, her tongue whispering over his lower lip, demanding an entrance.

She was a force to recognize, blue cold light pulsing in the depth of her eyes, fingers in turn brushing lightly over his skin, in turn nails digging in, leaving deep furrows, but he craved for every touch, and returned the favor with his own caresses.

“Leave it on…” Logan whispered when she stripped off her clothes and started to pull off the adamantium mesh covering her from neck to mid-thigh. Cold metal brushed against her hardened nipples when she sat back to his lap. Logan had shrugged off his jeans. His thighs felt warm, almost hot against her skin. His hands crept under the metal tunic, brushing it upwards.
“Take me,” Logan whispered against her lips, his hardened cock brushing her folds.
“Take me!” Almost desperate plea when she stalled, wanting to prolong the moment. She was ready, but wanted to look at him, see the man looking back when she slowly sunk around him, making them both hiss from the contact.

She was hot around him, hot and slick, but not burning. Alive, panting and squirming on his lap, core gripping his shaft, making him buck against her, plunging deeper with every stroke. Alive, muscles quivering, hands grasping, cold metal mesh between them rattling. Power from the field had burnt white streaks to her hair, and they framed her face, giving her almost ethereal look. She came, arching her back, head tilted backwards, primal scream tearing from her throat. He followed her, cock buried to the hilt, teeth locked around her throat, low growl answering to her scream.

“Oh, God… I may never walk again…” Marie groaned, nuzzling her face against his chest.
“It’s okay… I’m not planning to move anytime soon…” Logan murmured, still out of breath, brushing a kiss to the top of her head, hands on her buttocks keeping them joined. This was good. Warm and throbbing Marie around him, scent of theirs mingling with the scents of the forest around them.
“But take this off,” he said; tugging the adamantium tunic she wore. She rose slightly, shrugged it off and returned to his embrace.
“Why did you want me to leave it on?” She asked, enjoying the feel of soft skin against her over sensitized nipples.
“Felt like a good idea. The way you looked with it…” He didn’t have to finish his sentence.
“That good?” She asked when he started hardening inside of her.
“Oh, yeah…”
“Logan? I don’t think I can… It’s too soon…” Her body was still recovering from her earlier orgasm. Logan kneaded her buttocks gently.
“I just want to sit in here. Just want to feel you. Let me hold you like this.”

“Free Zone, my ass…” She heard Logan’s angry snarl, and echo of something being kicked. She turned to look. A piece of bent metal with cuffs attached to it. Logan was glaring at it as if it would magically turn alive and attack him.

They had eaten and gotten dressed. Either of them knew where they were, or what would they do next, so they had decided to return to the rubbles of their prison, to see if there were something they could use. What they found confused Marie. Logan… He was beyond furious.

Few things had escaped the destructive force Marie had unleashed. Among them were three tightly locked archiving cabinets. Logan had cut them open. What they had found inside…

“They were mutants! Mutants testing and breeding mutants!” While Logan paced, clenching and unclenching his fists, kicking small pieces of debris, Marie was skimming through the files they had found. Sickening records of earlier prisoners of the Free Zone, and what had happened to them. What had been made to them. At first desperate attempts to find a way to hide the X-gene, hide it so that Army could no longer tell who was a mutant. Program failing. New one starting. New program with new agenda. Creation of a perfect mutant. With exactly right kind of genes. A super race, able to wipe out humans from the face of the earth. Page after page testing and failing, until she got to the last folder, labeled simply as Adam & Eve.

“Logan…” He was still pacing and ranting. She had to call him again before he paused to listen.
“They almost did it. They already had Adam.”
“What are you talking about?” Logan asked, taking the folder from her.
“They had Adam. I was supposed to became Eve…” She felt sick.

**Subject Adam shows suitable levels of aggression and intelligence. Mutation is operational. Eve is quarantined. Necessary precautions have been taken. Birth control, vaccinations and hormonal injections have been given to her as planned. Hostile accompanying her during the quarantine shows…**

“Who, or what the fuck was this Adam?” Logan growled. It was quite apparent he was deemed as hostile, and not suitable genetic material for their purposes.
“I don’t know. Adam is the only reference to him, or it, and this is the only file he’s mentioned. Only that they had him. Nothing about his abilities, no pictures, nothing. This is creepy,” Marie said shivering and wrapping her arms around her sides. Logan was flipping through the folder, fingers itching to get hold of this Adam. He threw the folder to the ground and started rummaging through the gutted cabinet Marie had found it from, hoping to find more information.

“Are we going to spend night out here?” Marie asked. She had been walking around, picking up small knick-knacks and packages of dried rations she was sure would prove useful later. Logan had pulled a tattered, thick book from the steel cabinet, and had sat last hours reading it, lost to the world. Judging from the look on his face book was quite informative. Suddenly he stood up and stuffed it to the backpack.
“We’re leaving.”

“Wait!” She had to run to keep up with his long strides, makeshift backpack wobbling against her back. Logan didn’t stop, didn’t turn to look, but kept walking. To where, she had no idea. Forest was dark around them, yet he seemed to know exactly where he was going.
“Logan! Wait!” Finally he stopped, so abruptly that she collided against his broad back. There was a building in front of them. A log cabin. Simple, weathered but sturdy looking. Logan just stood motionless, staring at it.
“What? What is this place?” Marie asked.
“Doesn’t ring a bell?” Logan asked, turning to look at her. She shook her head, knowing Logan would see it even in darkness.
“It’s home. Your home. You were born in there.”

“I don’t want you to see this shit in here. It’s disgusting. But from what I found, your mom was one of the founders of the Free Zone. When it became apparent that they weren’t able to hide the X-gene, she literally took it upon herself to create a perfect mutant, a perfect mother for a new, invulnerable race. Some of her co-workers refused to go along with her plan. After you were born, the man you thought was your father took you with him and run. He was the head of security back then. He was supposed to kill you. Don’t know why he didn’t. Years passed, and general consensus turned in favor to your mother. They tried again, many times, but they were unable to duplicate you. According to this they were quite flustered, but happy when they realized whom you were. They intended to let you stay with me until everything was ready. Adam was already waiting, horny as hell. Your child… Your children would have become mother and father of their new alpha-race.” She stared at the book Logan was holding, nausea churning at the pit of her stomach.

“No. No. It wasn’t like that. That’s not what happened! My dad was a blacksmith. My mom died when I was just a baby. I… Dad never left the village. He said he had born there, and his parents were…” She was babbling and stuttering, backing away from the cabin, backing away from Logan and the book in his hands. The pouch she had gathered her belongings fell from her back when she stumbled backwards. She turned around and started running. Logan caught her easily, tackling her to the ground.
“I’m not some fucking experiment! I’m not!” She screamed. Logan turned her on her back, weight of his body pinning her to the ground.
“Yes, you are. You were part of their program, but it’s over now. You took care of it.”
“No!”
“Yes. And it doesn’t make you a bad person. It doesn’t make you different.”
“No! I’m not an experiment…” Hard slap on her cheek silenced her. Logan’s fingers dug painfully around her jaw, forcing her to look at him.
“They gave you life. You took it and made it yours. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You should be proud of yourself. You finished it. Made sure that nobody will suffer in their hands anymore.”
“But…”
“Shut up. I know it’s not much, but I love you. I won’t allow you to speak about yourself as if you were anything less than perfect,” Logan hissed, barely contained rage simmering in his eyes.
“We're both fucked up, but at least we have each other to rely on. You better accept it soon. If you don’t, it will eat you until you break, and after that it’s fucking hard to go on. Trust me. I speak from experience.”

She wanted to speak, to say something. At least answer to his little slip up, but it was impossible. Tears had been gathering, and all she could do was to grasp a firm hold from him when dam broke. Either of them noticed a feral pair of eyes, observing them from distance.

They decided to stay at the cabin. Marie needed time to gather her thoughts, and they really had nowhere else to go. One good thing had come out of their imprisonment at the Free Zone. It had thrown the Army off from their backs.

There was almost nothing left of the original furnishing, but cabin had four solid walls, roof and a working fireplace. Logan was more than able to build a home from it to them. It gave him something to do while Marie was reading the book he had found from the remains of the Free Zone. At first he had been reluctant to give it to her. Person who had written it, had went to extreme details, describing every procedure that had been carried during the project Adam and Eve, including what would have been Marie’s part in it. Finally, after she had begged, whined and griped for it he had grown tired of hearing her, and had thrown the book to Marie.

“It’s beautiful!” Logan had done this before, for himself. Carved a bed. It had served it’s purpose well, but he hadn’t gotten this warm feeling of pride from accomplishing it that he got now when Marie’s hand was caressing smooth, polished wooden surface, eyes twinkling with admiration. It had taken him a week. Week to find right pieces and coax the form out of them. They had slept on the floor on top of moss Marie that had gathered from the woods surrounding them, but tonight they would lay down to a bed. Thick layer of hay to the bottom, and on top of it a soft quilt they had salvaged from the ruins of the complex they had been held.

“Tomorrow I’ll start with the table and chairs,” Logan said when they sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. While he had been working on the bed and scouting their surroundings, Marie had found some pots and pans strewn around the cabin. Some of them were rusted through, but few of them were in good enough shape for cooking. They had rations, Logan had managed to bring down a small deer, and now, at the beginning of the winter all kind of berries and seeds were ready and ripe, just waiting for somebody to pick them up.

“Season won’t last long. We better start to gather and dry these. You will need vitamins later,” Logan said around mouthful of blueberries. Marie tilted her head.
“Huh? Later? What do you mean?” She asked. She wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn Logan actually blushed before looking away from her. When he turned to look at her again, he was completely serious.
“Something I hadn’t really thought about came to my mind when they put you on birth control back there. That shot won’t last forever.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah. You will get pregnant. Sooner or later.”
“But can’t you… I thought you could smell…”
“When you’re ‘catching’? No. I can tell the difference in your scent, and now I know nothing’s going to happen because of that shot. But that stuff they put in to you was artificial. I don’t have the slightest idea how to tell the difference with real hormones. I have never had to deal with this kind of things before,” Logan explained.
“Okay…”
“Does it bother you?” He asked.

She hadn’t even thought about it. Of course she knew how babies were born. What gave them life. That had been something she hadn’t had the time to think about. Now that Logan brought it up she wasn’t sure how to react.
“I don’t know…” She said. Logan looked mildly taken aback.
“If this is some shit about that stupid project again…”
“No! No, that has nothing to do with this! I just haven’t really thought about it… Guess I have just assumed that it was something I wouldn’t have to worry about, not yet anyway.” And that clearly wasn’t the right answer.
“Worry about? Having a baby is something to worry about for you?” Logan asked, eyes widening from disbelief.
“It’s a big responsibility. And before I met you I always thought there wouldn’t even be a chance for me to have that. To get this close with somebody, let alone have a child. I don’t think I’m ready for it. Not yet.” That was the truth. Up until Marie met Logan, she hadn’t been able to touch anybody as intimately as she could touch him. Logan huffed, grim lines settling over his face and stood up.
“Fine. I’ll be outside if you need anything…”

“Why does he have to be such a jerk? All I said was that I’m not ready yet. Yet. As in it wouldn’t be a good idea to have a baby right now…” Marie muttered angrily, staring at the pile of dirty dishes in front of her. She should go and wash them before they dried up. There was a well behind the cabin, and next to it a pile of soft sand. It had obviously been used for washing dishes and dirty clothes.
“Screw him. Screw the dishes,” she spat, curled on the bed with the book Logan had found, and started reading.

He started to remember why he had chosen to live alone rather than find a companion. Taking another person in to your life meant taking on responsibilities as well. He didn’t do that. Hadn’t done that. Now he started to feel chains tightening around him. He wanted to run, as far as he could, as fast as he could, and at the same time he was horrified from the mere thought of leaving Marie. She wasn’t ready to have children? Well’ who the fuck ever was?
“And who the fuck would want to have my children?” He spoke out loud the question that had floated to his mind when Marie had been explaining why she felt it wasn’t the right time for that yet. Only God knew, or more likely only Satan knew what had been done to him and his genes when he had been in the Army. That combined with genetic altering that had been done to Marie… No. Better not to think about it.

He was trudging through his usual route, checking surroundings out of a habit. The whole week they had spent here he had been scouting their surroundings, and it had become clear that their closest neighbors were animals scurrying around in the forest. No humans or mutants close enough for him to detect.
“Doesn’t hurt to be careful…” He muttered, crouching down. There was something on the ground. Something that hadn’t been there yesterday. Small piece of concrete. He picked it up. Noticed a trail of hoof prints and distinctive scent of a deer next to it and threw it down.
“But paranoia is a different thing altogether,” he grunted, standing up and wiping his hands to his denim clad thighs.

**… Doctor D’Acanto was reluctant to let us observe the procedure, and when it was over, she announced that she would be moving out. Whole team opposed her decision. It wasn’t wise. The whole project was… It was an abomination. Everything we had kept sacred, lines we wowed not to cross were broken…**

“Ugh…” Who ever had written the book hadn’t left a name behind, but judging from the sheer amount of details and information it had had to be somebody close to her mother. A boyfriend? No. Too cold and professional. Maybe a longtime co-worker? Marie glanced up from the book and pinched the bridge of her nose. Reading gave her a headache. She had perfect eyesight as far as she knew, so it wasn’t the act of reading itself, but the material she was wading through. There was so much of it. She had gotten only halfway through the book, page after page descriptions of failures, but now it started to look like the writer had been writing about her. Small thud from the front porch made her discard the book. Had Logan returned?

He decided to return to the Free Zone once more. He was on a mission. Hay and quilt were better than nothing, but he had a hunch he could find a real mattress from underneath the rubble. All he had to do was to dig deep enough. Quarantine quarters were left virtually intact; most of Marie’s destructive power had been focused to upper levels of the compound.

Sun was setting when he reached the Free Zone. For a moment he hesitated. It could take all night to find an entrance from under the debris. He should at least go and tell Marie where he was. Or rather go home and return to hunt the mattress in the morning.
“Shit.” He had overreacted. Now it was time to crawl back and beg for forgiveness.

When she opened the door, she expected to see Logan sitting on the porch, maybe hunched over a log and carving it, like he had been many nights before when he was crafting their bed. Empty porch and front yard greeted her instead. She closed the door and returned to her book. And heard it again. Distinctive thud, like somebody walking on the porch. She shook her head. This had happened before. The night of the fire. She had heard imaginary voices and run, and it had gotten her in trouble. Instead of running now she concentrated to the book in her hands, blocking all strange sounds out. They were not important. They were nothing. They didn’t even exist. Especially that one that sounded like somebody was sniffing and panting just outside of the door. Nope. Not real.
“Logan!”

He was walking slowly back towards the cabin, trying to form a polite way to apologize his childish behavior. Words had never been his strong suit. Sometimes they came out exactly right, but more often he managed to sound the greatest bastard that walked on the earth.
“Marie, I’m…” I’m what? Sorry? Asshole? Moron? All of them? Yeah. Definitely all of them. First one was a good thing and last time he checked latter two weren’t a crime. His ears perked. A voice.
“Marie, I’m… what the fuck?” Voice was calling him. Marie’s voice. Marie was screaming his name from the top of her lungs.

Cabin looked undisturbed, everything on the front porch exactly like he left it when he went inside to eat with Marie. Door was closed. When he tried to open it, he found it locked. He had installed a crude lock on it, holders on both sides of the doorframe, and sturdy branch to lift on top of them when they slept. Again Marie screamed. Not even a word anymore, just a scream. He threw his full weight against the door once, twice, before it gave up and opened, revealing their one-room home, Marie standing on the bed and screaming her lungs out. Scanning the cabin even as he crossed the floor with long stride and pulled Marie to his arms he found nothing unusual. Nothing threatening. Just usual scents, him and Marie, wood, smoke, mice that lived under the floorboards, scents coming from outside only those he had come to relate to this place.

“Something was outside. At first I thought it was you. Then it started sniffing and scratching the door and…”
“Marie, calm down. It was probably just a fox. I have seen couple of those running around,” Logan tried to calm her, cradling her against his chest, but she pushed away from him and threw him an icy glare.
“Foxes do not growl and curse before running off. Well, growl, maybe, but I’m quite sure ‘fuck’ isn’t part of their vocabulary.”

His hackles rose. He let go of Marie and stood up. Walked stiffly to the front porch and drew in scent. And there was big fat nothing. Nothing at all. But that didn’t mean a thing. He had been wrong before. He hadn’t caught the scent of the other Destroyer, the one that had made them leave his bunker. Nostrils flared again, claws shot out from their sheaths and before he realized what he was doing, railing of the porch and front door were decorated with distinctive marks gauged by his claws. Huff, snort and roar with bared teeth, directed to nobody, and to everybody, and claws slid back in and he felt little more himself again. More in control. Safe enough to go back in, where Marie was waiting, her scent telling she understood the situation better than him.

“Adam. It was Adam.” As soon as whisper left her lips, Logan grimaced.
“Fucker can’t be that durable. You obliterated that place.” Couldn’t be. Shouldn’t be. If he was, they were truly, utterly fucked.
“Has there been anything about him in this?” Logan asked picking up the book Marie had discarded earlier. Marie shook her head.
“But I haven’t read it all. I just got to the part where doctor… Mom decided to move in here,” she said.
“We have some studying to do tonight. But first I’m going to fix that door. At least it will slow him down a little if he tries to come and get you.”

“Camo. He’s really called Camo. Adam is only his code name for this project,” Marie said. Logan had been tinkering with the door, trying to find a best way to block it. Marie had been reading, skimming through the book with fast pace.
“Let me see,” Logan asked, reaching for the book.

**… We came across few suitable specimens, results of earlier programs. One of them especially caught our interest. Camo. Fast healer, able to change his outer appearance and scent. Strong. With enhanced senses. Intelligent. Able to turn to invisible brief periods of time. Those abilities combined with Eve’s…**

Logan slammed the book shut, snorting from disgust when sharp metallic tang of fear settled to his tongue. That thing was something else. As if somebody had designed it to fool the likes of him. He wouldn’t be able to see or smell him. Not before he got too close. And there had been no information about his aggressive abilities. Stuff that had been listed was purely defensive mutations, much like Marie’s skin. There had to be something more. Because things the book described could have been written about Logan.

“If it’s him, he won’t try anything in two-three weeks,” Logan said. Marie quirked a questioning eyebrow to him.
“He’s after you because he wants to mate. There’s no use doing that if you’re not ready for it. He will wait until the BC-shot they gave you wears off. After that…” He didn’t have to finish his sentence. Marie’s mind filled the blank. Image of a beast-like man insane from lust, barging through the door Logan had kicked in just few hours ago made her whimper.
“I won’t let him get to you. I’ll find him and take care of him before anything happens. He won’t get his paws on you, I promise.” He was going to keep that promise. No matter what it would take, he would keep it.
“And from now on, I won’t let you out of my sight. We start doing things together again.” For the past week Marie had been reading, arranging the cabin and wandering around in the forest for her own amusement while Logan had been patrolling and hunting. That was going to end.
“We’ll hunt together…”

Marie slept few hours they had left before the sunrise on the bed, fully clothed. Logan lay curled on his side, facing the door and Marie curled against his back. He had spread a thin layer of sand to the floor, hoping that if he were wrong about his earlier assessment of Camo and fucker decided to come for Marie, he would see his tracks in the sand and could locate him before he got too close. Hunt together? Now, there was a joke. Play bait together would be more appropriate. He wasn’t going to search Camo. It would be futile. Logan was going to prod and poke his senses until that bastard had no other choice but to come forward and reveal himself.

“No. Take them off.” Marie threw a hesitant glance towards him. Logan had been acting all weird after she had woken up. Now she was getting dressed, ever present adamantium chain mail sliding against her skin when she was tugging on jeans and a t-shirt.
“Off?” She asked puzzled.
“Everything except the mail. Off. Now.”
“Okay…” She really didn’t think it was appropriate attire, but if it was what Logan wanted…
“Put your boots on.” Ugly, clunky and sturdy shoes with a worn look on them. She would need them if Camo came to play. Soles of her feet were too soft to run through woods barefoot.
“Weren’t we supposed to go hunting?” Marie asked when Logan shrugged off his shirt, leaving only his jeans and boots on.
“We are going to hunt. My way…”

She barely got out of the cabin when Logan suddenly pushed her hard enough to send her on her hands and knees in front of the porch.
“Hey! Ow!” she started to get up, but Logan was on her in a flash, pushing her to the ground with his foot. She could feel the sole of his boot through the mail she wore.
“Logan! What the…” One hand tangled to her hair and other clamped over her mouth. Logan was now crouching over her, bending her neck almost painfully and leaning closer. Close enough to lick her earlobe and give her throat a small nip, growling and purring.
“I won’t hurt you…” She could hear him whisper almost inaudibly, but it was clear he wasn’t going to explain his actions.
“Oh, God…” She whimpered when Logan’s palm left her mouth and slid under the mail, grasping her breasts roughly and tweaking her nipples.

He couldn’t deny it. Sight of Marie, on her hands and knees in front of him made his blood boil and every part of him harden in a new way. He wanted her like this. Helpless, defenseless, completely at his mercy. He knew this would have worked better if she was naked, but mail was for protection. Boots gave her protection from Camo. Mail protected Marie from Logan himself.

He was still forcing her to stay down, head bent uncomfortably backwards, his knee pressing against her back and one of his hands kneading her breasts.
“I’m going to make you come. I’m going to make you scream my name. Then I’m going to fuck you until you scream no more. You’re mine, and after this you will smell like it, too…” Logan murmured with a low, surprisingly loud voice, and suddenly it clicked. She realized what he was doing. She let out a low moan and arched her back before rolling around carefully. Logan was now straddling her ribcage, one fist still tangled firmly to her hair.
“Take me. Make me yours…” She pleaded, rubbing his thighs.
“On your fucking knees!” Logan growled, yanked her around and gave her buttocks a swift slap. Then the hand fondling her breasts pulled her harshly against his chest, knee shoved her legs apart and she could feel his other hand disappearing between them, fingers spreading her lower lips none too gently.
“Logan…” Dull teeth lodged over her throat with a furious snarl, forcing her to silence again.

He knew he was taking this too far. Even when her scent told him she wasn’t afraid or hurt, this was the ultimate humiliation. He closed his eyes. Marie. It was Marie. He was baiting Camo, but it was Marie in his hands. Her tight, slick core around his finger. He withdrew that finger and found her clit, already swollen. He could hear her soft gasp when he slid the pad of his finger over it.
“That’s it… It’s me. It’s just me, Marie. I’m not going to hurt you…” He could only hope Camo wouldn’t hear his whispered assurances. Marie was shivering and spreading her legs even further apart.
“Logan, please…”

Suddenly he let go of her, letting her fall to the ground and stood up.
“Look up.” Her mind and body were still reeling from the feelings his rough handling had woken.
“Look the fuck up!” Command was spoken more harshly and she made a conscious effort to obey. Logan was staring at her, heated gaze flicking every now and then to the surrounding forest. Thin sheen of perspiration covered his skin. His cock was straining at his jeans, and he was stroking the bulge lazily.
“You want this?” He asked.
“Do you want this?” He growled when she didn’t answer. Marie nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“Say it. Tell me what you want.” She crawled to him on her hands and knees, grasping his thigh and nuzzling her face against the denim of his jeans. Logan shrugged her off, still stroking himself.
“What do you want?” He repeated his question again.
“I… Take me. Fill me,” she managed to moan.
“I will,” Logan snarled, pushing her on her knees again. She could hear him opening his jeans.
“Up. Stand up.” She did as she was told. Logan’s hands landed on her shoulders and bent her forward until she had to lean against the railing of the porch for support. With one swift stroke Logan slammed his cock inside of her. Claws erupted from his knuckles, making his grip from her shoulders tighten painfully, and she could hear his roar, and her own scream echoing through the woods surrounding the cabin.

Another animalistic sound drowned the echo they had created. Something impacted to them from the side, tearing them apart. Marie scurried hiding under the cabin. Logan was down, but unharmed and conscious. Air around him was rippling, like on a hot day above tar. Something was circling him, howling and wailing furiously. Camo had taken the bait.

She expected Logan to bolt on his feet. Instead he stayed down on his back, leaning against his elbows, and it looked as if he tried to avoid Camo with his gaze, turning his head slightly every time the other mutant came to his field of vision. What the hell was he doing?

“I’m not going to look at you until you show yourself!” Logan shouted over Camo’s ranting. Sudden silence fell. Distorted patch of air in front of him started to solidify, until he could see faint outlines of a man. Few second more, and Camo stood there, panting, green eyes blazing from rage and grief, whole body shivering from pent up energy.

“She’s mine. You’re not going to touch her anymore,” Camo hissed, narrowing his eyes. He was naked. His skin was blotchy, with all imaginable colors imprinted on it. He was built much like Logan, muscular upper body, narrow waist and well-defined muscles bulging on his legs and arms. His face was oval-shaped. Dark, greenish hair slicked back, eyes glowing green.
“Bullshit. She belongs to nobody,” Logan spat, standing up slowly, eyeing Camo warily. He sheathed his claws and fastened his jeans. Camo’s nostrils flared.
“She’s not ready yet. But I’ll be taking her with me anyway. She’s better off with me than a savage like you,” he said, turning towards cabin.
“Like hell you will. I won’t let you take her. There’s no Adam. There’s no Eve. She terminated the project. Let her be, or…”
“Or what? You cut me up with your claws?” Camo snorted, twirling to face Logan, transforming until he was a perfect replica of him, slightly crouched, claws extending from his knuckles.
“That’s all you’re good for, Wolverine…”

She heard Camo calling Logan Wolverine. Logan tilted his head and his eyes narrowed.
“You have done your homework. You know what I do. You know I’m pretty damn impossible to put down. You really want to waltz with me?” He asked, mimicking Camo’s stance, claws sliding out once again.

It was unnerving, to not be able to smell your opponent. He had to play this by earshot, and good guessing never replaced the information you could collect from the scents coming off from the guy you were planning to chop up. Especially when said man was laughing at you.
“Big words from a small man! Yes, I want to have a go with you. In fact, I insist it. How else we are going to settle our little dispute?” Camo practically purred.

He had been waiting for it. Without scent he had been gouging Camo’s behavior, small telltales his body was sending. Camo was hard to read, but when he twitched slightly, Logan knew what to expect. When Camo charged towards him, claws so much like Logan’s extended, looking like he was planning to ram them through his gut, instead of retreating Logan stepped right on his path. Claws only nicked his side, and Camo barreled face first against his chest, making Logan stumble backwards before plunging his own claws through Camo’s back.

Instead of pained howl he had expected to hear, Camo was laughing again, spewing blood over Logan’s chest.
“My turn!” He fell on his knees in front of Logan, dove between his legs and before Logan had the time to react, Camo had plunged his claws straight through his back. He could see tips of them protruding from his stomach.
“Fuck, that hurts every time…” He gasped, twisting free, wounds already closing when he turned and kneed Camo under his jaw before other man had the time to stand up. He could hear bone fracturing, but he knew Camo’s jaw wouldn’t stay broken long.

It was brutal. Blood, gaping wounds, both men squirming and growling, teeth gnashing, limbs tangling, trading kicks and blows. She had no idea, which one of them was Logan; both looked the same, acted like mirror images of each other. That’s when she finally realized how serious the situation was. No matter who won, she would have to face the last one standing, alone. With no way of telling was it Logan or Camo. And she froze.

He could smell her fear. Marie was scared to shitless. Well, that made two of them. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let Camo take her, but what ever he threw to the guy, what ever moves he tried, Camo countered them. Laughed them off like they were nothing. Camo couldn’t get in his swipes and stabs either, but that wasn’t much of a consolation. Checkmate. They would beat each other up until one of them tired enough to make a mistake.

Finally he had that bastard pinned. He was straddling Camo’s thighs, both sets of claws rammed through his chest, tips of them sunken to the ground beneath them. Camo was struggling, and with every move Logan’s claws sliced the wounds on his chest little wider. He could feel Camo’s heart pulsing against the blades.
“Eve… I let her down… There were others… Keep her safe, Adam…” Man gurgled.
“I will.” Logan shifted a bit, lifting his right hand. Claws came out from Camo with sickening sound of metal grinding against bone. He sliced Camo’s head off before falling backwards on top of his legs. He lay there for a while, his knees bent, thighs stretching quite uncomfortably.

He was out of breath, covered with sweat and other bodily fluids, and not even half of that stuff was his. Yet when he rose back up he was staring at his own decapitated image. He managed to scramble off from the corpse and turn his back on it before acrid bile rising to the back of his throat made him gag. In the end Camo had lost one part of his mutation. Logan could now smell him. Smell blood, shit, puke and something dark and earthen underneath it all. Adam? So he was the fucking Adam now? Nominated to the job by the bastard who had stalked Marie. That thought made it impossible to brush back bile that was tickling his tonsils.

She had curled to a tight ball, deep under the cabin. Hiding her face behind her hands, trying to make herself disappear out of sheer willpower. Envying Camo. Fearing him. Fearing the outcome of the battle. When heavy footsteps approached and stopped in front of the porch, she didn’t look up. She nearly stopped breathing. She could hear small creaking sound, soaked denim chafing against skin. Somebody was crouching.
“I’m going to take care of few things. Stay put,” she heard Logan’s voice telling. Voice was his, but who she would see if she opened her eyes?

He dragged the body further to the forest, kicking the head in front of him as he went. Animals would take care of it, he was sure. He had seen several species of scavengers during the time they had spent in the cabin. He would just have to make sure Marie didn’t wander to this direction anytime soon.

That task taken care of he returned to cabin. Marie was still shivering under the porch. Good. He wouldn’t have to chase her down later. He walked around the cabin, going to the well at the backside of it. He had to get all the muck off before it dried on him. He couldn’t stand the stench of it any longer.

Water was cold, but it was fresh, clear and clean. After dousing several buckets of it on him Logan stripped off his jeans and boots. Boots were okay. Those he could wash. Jeans he would burn. Few more buckets of water, and he felt clean enough to enter the cabin. He crossed the porch carefully, making some noise so that Marie would realize he wasn’t trying to sneak around. Found a pair of black pants. Not as comfortable as jeans would have been, but he donned them, and loose fitting black shirt he found. Took a kettle filled with berries and walked outside with it. Sat on the ground, keeping good distance between him and the porch and started eating. Marie would come out eventually. He knew she needed this. Needed to see which one of her suitors had won.

“It’s getting dark, Marie. Would you like to come out from there?” He had been sitting in front of the porch for hours. There was no answer to his question.
“Marie? Would you please come out?” He was too big to fit under the porch; she would have to come out on her own.
“Shit. Kid? I’m going to bed. You know what to do if you get cold.” He stood up, brushing off small twigs and leaves from the back of his pants before going inside.

She was watching the man. He was just sitting there, throwing a glance towards her every now and then. She wanted to go to him, but she couldn’t. He looked like Logan, but as easily he could have been Camo. It was warm day, but air under the cabin was cool, even chilly. She was shivering so hard that she was sure man heard rattling and clinking of her adamantium mail. She wanted to go to him, to crawl on his lap and soak up the warmth she was sure he would radiate, but she was too afraid to leave the safety of the porch. So she shivered and watched, waiting for what he would do next. He had called her kid. That didn’t mean a thing. For lots of people she looked like one. She flinched a bit when he stood up, but it was a false alarm. He just went inside. She could hear floorboards creaking when he was walking around. Scent of smoke drifted by. She ventured deeper under the cabin and came across the foundation of the fireplace. It was slightly warm, and getting warmer every minute. She curled next to it, trying to imagine that it was Logan’s broad back, shielding her from troubles and dangers that were lurking behind every corner.

He could hear her shuffling around under the floor. Seeking warmth from the stones of the fireplace. Shock. Had to be it. She would have to come out of it on her own. He added few logs to the crackling fire and lay down on the floor in front of it. It didn’t feel right to go alone to the bed he had made for both of them.

He was sleeping. She crept closer, careful not to wake him. She had come here to get some clothes. Backpack lay next to him. She reached for it, fingers brushing over the canvas before curling around the strap.

He could hear her. She was really trying. Trying to stay unnoticed. He couldn’t hear metallic clinking of the mail. She must have taken it off. Smart kid. He couldn’t risk scaring her, so he stayed where he lay, on his stomach, but cracked one eye slightly open. She was naked. Opening the backpack. Hands trembling, struggling to stay silent. Scent of her fear fell heavy on him, constricting around his throat like a garrote. He fought to stay down. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to go and hold her, stop her from leaving, but he knew it would be a mistake. He had been in the same state as she was, had gone through it years ago. As much as he had wanted and craved for human contact, someone to hold him, he had known that he would have broken out of that embrace and run in terror.

She kept her eyes trained to him and pushed her hand in to the backpack, freezing when her fingers rustled something inside. He had to have heard it. She let go of the bag and bolted out.

He sat up rubbing his face after she left. She would fucking freeze to death, running around naked. Granted, winter was approaching and nights were getting warmer, but they were not warm enough to run around wearing nothing but your birthday suit. He took clothes she had worn earlier, folded them neatly and took them to porch.
“I’ll go back inside. You’re welcome to join me when you feel like it. Camo’s gone for good, but don’t wander too far. We don’t know if there’s others like him sneaking around,” he spoke softly, knowing full well Marie was crouching under his feet, just relatively thin layer of wood separating them.
“I left you some clothes. If you’re hungry, you have to come inside. Can’t leave food out here, draws animals.”

She waited until the door closed after him before snatching the clothes and dressing up. She already felt better. He acted like the Logan she knew. Would Camo have accepted this kind of behavior from her? She couldn’t be sure. Hungry? She was starving. But she wasn’t going to let him lure her in to a trap. It wasn’t like she didn’t know where to find food. There were berries and nuts everywhere she looked.

He sat on the porch, rising sun warming his face. He felt cold. Cold and tired. He had tried to sleep, but then he had heard Marie sneaking off. He had followed her secretly, noting pleased that she knew how to take care of herself. Alert, even when picking up stuff to eat. Eating straight from the bushes, ready to move if something threatening came to view. Pleased, and sad. She didn’t need him. There would be no reason for her to come back to him. She could stay out here all by herself. She had absolutely no reason to learn to trust him anymore.

She looked at him from the distance, hiding behind thick bushes. He was sitting there, blank look on his face, hands curled around his sides. Hair tousled from combing his fingers through it. Logan or Camo. Which one? Which one lay dead next to her? Which one was sitting out there, obviously missing her? She didn’t know, she couldn’t tell, and it made her let out a frustrated whine. She wanted to go to him, to look at him and see Logan looking back, but she knew she couldn’t have dealt with it if she went there now only to find out that Logan was dead.

“Fuck.” His mood was getting sour. What the hell did she want from him? For two days he had been walking on eggshells, trying to assure her he wasn’t going to jump on her and make her pop out babies. It was getting on his nerves. She wasn’t getting better. Not this way. Not him trying to bend over backwards to keep her sheltered when she obviously went to extreme measures to stay out of his reach.
“Kid, you better get over here. Now. You don’t want me to come and get you!”

He was getting impatient. Pacing back and forth in front of the cabin, hands clasped behind his back. She retreated deeper in the forest. She had stayed longer than it was safe. Birth control was still active, but that wouldn’t stop Camo from raping her anyway. If he was Camo.

Heaven help him. He was stalking after her, trailing her scent through the woods. Exactly what he shouldn’t do. But enough was enough. Enough sleeping alone on the cold, hard floor. Enough of seeing flashes of her from the corner of his eye. Fucking enough of her scent, scared and hesitant wafting in the air around the cabin. He would hunt her down and bring her back to his life even if it killed them both.

Night was warm around him. Predator in him spurred him on. He would find her, he was sure of it.

Up until now he had seen Marie as something to protect. A small and fragile creature, capable of power if needed to, but mainly for him to protect. Now he saw completely new side of her. A prey, scared out of her wits, making him run in circles out of confusion and hesitation. First he was pushing through bushes, nosing out her scent, next thing he realized he was backing away, nausea churning inside of him, hating the way he was acting.

Trail was warm; she couldn’t be too far ahead. In fact, if he strained his hearing a bit… Telltale rustling of dry leaves. Near by. So close that all he had to do was to reach out and…
“Fuck!” Very confused and angry squirrel sunk its teeth to his palm. He resisted the urge to squish the critter and placed it on the ground. Squirrel took off. He sat down and rubbed his face tiredly. It was a warm trail, but it was apparent that he wasn’t going to find Marie. Not if she didn’t want to be found. He could hear rustling again. It was either Marie, or that squirrel, planning to take its revenge. Which ever it was, he was too tired to care.
He huffed and picked a dry twig from the ground between his legs and started snapping it to small bits and pieces.
“I’m sick of this. You can go and grab anything you need from the cabin. I’ll wait here. I’ll give you an hour. I won’t come after you.”

He gave her two hours. Two hours wandering around. It had been fun while it lasted. He had known eventually something would drive them apart, but he had pushed that thought out of his mind. Closed his eyes and enjoyed every moment he could spend with her. He had been hurt. She had been hurt. But it had been worth it. Every drop of blood he had shed was worth every second he had spent with her.

Cabin was undisturbed when he returned. Front door hung open, exactly as he had left it. He couldn’t bring himself to go in. Not yet. Instead he walked to the well. Threw a bucket in and waited until it was full. Lifted it up and drank. Water was good. Cold but good. He could hear all kinds of animals scurrying around, minding their own business in the dark. He could stay here over the winter. Hunt. Sleep. Get over her. He knew sooner or later his feet would start itching. With nothing to hold him in place he would start roaming again. Which wasn’t necessary a bad thing. As much as he detested human company, without it he would get lost. He had worked too hard to restore his humanity to toss it away just because he was hurting.

His boots fell heavy to the porch. He clunked off sand and small stones gathered to their soles before stepping in. Tilted his head. Marie was there. Sitting on the bed. Upon seeing him she cringed and pulled her legs against her chest, but she didn’t flee. He turned and closed the door. After careful consideration he bolted it. She could get out if she wanted, but she would have to make a conscious effort to do that.

She still had her doubts, but she was tired. Tired, cold and hungry. If she would have to endure Camo’s advances and eventual copulations with him, fine. As long as he kept her fed and safe. When the man entered and closed the door she suppressed the sudden pang of fear. Who ever he was, it had become quite clear he didn’t appreciate horrified partner.

“You find food from the cupboard, clothes from the backpack. I’m going to bed.” He started shedding his clothes, pondering weather to take off everything. He could scare her. Well, fuck her. She would learn eventually. He stripped off his jeans and climbed to the bed, scooting behind her. He could feel her tensing.
“Good night, Marie,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

He woke up little later when bed dipped. Marie. She had hopped off and was walking towards the fireplace.
“Where are you going?” He asked. She stopped and stood frozen on the middle of the room.
“Kid? Come here.” She turned and walked to him with stiff legs, reluctance evident on her face. He held up the quilt and patted vacant spot beside him.
“Hop in.” she did as he told her to do, settling next to him on her back, hands clutched rigidly over her stomach, trembling from tension.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Just relax…”

Relax? If she could make herself believe this was Logan, maybe she could let go and melt to his embrace, but right now she was expecting Camo to jump on her and pound her in to mattress.
“I’m going to hold you now. Because goddamned… It’s… I don’t fucking know what to do anymore! Don’t freak out on me, okay?” He was talking and sliding his hand over her, turning her back against his torso, molding her against his muscular frame.
“Here. Isn’t this better than being alone?”

Her heart was pounding against her ribcage so hard he was afraid it would shatter the bones surrounding it. At least she had stopped shivering.
“He’s gone, and no matter who else comes after you, they will be dealt with, too. Go to sleep. You’re safe with me.” There was no fear in her scent anymore, but he started missing it as soon as stench of desperation and defeat hit his nostrils.
“I give up,” he heard her whisper.
“You don’t have to hold me. I won’t run away. I promise.”
“But I want to hold you. I missed you. Still miss you…” He whispered, wrapping his hands even tighter around her and burying his face to the side of her throat, nuzzling her pulse point lightly with his nose. Her skin was warming up.
“What will it take to make you see the truth? Camo is gone. You’re with me. You have nothing to be afraid of,” he said when she cringed from his touch and fear in her scent spiked up again.
“I don’t know…”
“Well, let me know when you figure it out…” He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, trying to find something familiar underneath confusing and rather rankling mess it had turned.

They settled to uncomfortable co-existence. Did daily chores that needed to be done, gathered food and storage it, repaired what needed repairing and scavenged the ruins of the Free Zone. Marie wasn’t trying to avoid him, didn’t try to run, and Logan did his best to assure her about his identity. It wasn’t working so well, but unexpected situation arose. They had been digging the ruins, still looking for the entrance to sublevels, when heavy slab of concrete fell over Logan, knocking him unconscious and pinning him to the ground from waist below.

He woke up alone. Team had cleared the place and left him behind. Standard procedure in combat. You fell, nobody came looking for you. You had to make your way back to the camp by yourself. Only few escaped. It was safer to tag along the Army than try to make it through the lines on your own. Both sides took prisoners, and their treatment… Mere thought of what would happen if enemy found him now made him shiver. He had already spent more time in enemy hands than he cared to remember. At least most of the prisoners had one hope, dying after handling got too rough. He didn’t have that privilege. Even collared his mutation managed to keep him alive.

He tensed. Somebody was approaching. From behind. Light footsteps. Small unit. Friend or foe? He tried to crane his neck, and managed to catch a glimpse of a girl. A clone? No. Scent of BC wafted to his nose. Breeder. Fucking marvelous. Breeders had usually only one thing on their mind.
“Are you alright?” She asked, staying out of his reach.
“I will be as soon as I can get this off from me,” he grunted, patting the slab of concrete covering his legs.
“Should I… Can I help?” Does the bear shit in the woods?
“Yeah. Go and find a sturdy branch.” He watched her running off. If he were lucky, she would remember what to do when she found that branch and come back to him with it instead of wandering away.

No matter who that man was, she had to help him. He seemed to be quite skilled in survival, something she would have to learn from him. He couldn’t teach her if he was dead. Granted, both Logan and Camo were practically immortal, but even their mutations had their limits. Sturdy branch… She finally spotted one probably strong enough, that she could use to wedge him loose from under part of a wall that had collapsed on him.

Looked like this one wasn’t as dimwitted as the rest of the Breeders. She returned with dry but sturdy looking pole, and without waiting instructions jammed it between the concrete slab and a pile of rocks.
“I’ll try to rock it loose, but you have to tell me if it feels like it starts to fall on you,” she said, concentrating to the task at hand.
“Yeah.” Definitely smarter than most of the Breeders. And from the looks of it a first-timer. Most Breeders were constantly either knocked up, or dragging their stretched stomachs, trying to find a suitable partner. This one had firm-looking body. And this one was quite young. Funny-looking white stripes on her hair. She was grimacing and huffing, her body trembling. He could feel weight on his legs shifting. It was working, but she was doing it wrong. She would sprain something if she kept pushing.
“Stop. Straighten your back and bend your knees.” There. Good deed of the day done. She wouldn’t be much use for him if she got hurt before he got out of this trap.

Finally he was able to crawl away from under that rock. He stood up slowly, observing his surroundings. He had no recollection of how he ended up in her in the first place. His gaze landed on the Breeder. She was walking towards the forest.
“I think I saw some blueberries while I was looking for that branch. I’ll go and get them. We already have enough dried ones, but I was thinking I could make some soup tonight…” Soup? Right. Breeders had more privileges when it came to food. He shook his head. He had no idea how close the enemy lines they were. He couldn’t let her wander off. He would need her to guide him back to the camp.
“Hey! Wait up!” He shouted after her. She stopped and turned to look at him. Really look at him. Tilted her head, squinted her eyes and everything. Then suddenly she let out a shriek, charging towards him, arms spread like wings. Claws extended. He couldn’t smell a threat, but she sure acted like she would become one soon. He had seen a Breeder go berserk over a dead offspring, and it hadn’t been a pretty sight. Afterwards there had been almost nothing left of the destroyer that had killed the baby.

Instead of attacking him Breeder dodged his claws and wrapped her hands around his waist, burying her head against his chest, making him stumble backwards before he gained his balance again.

“Get your hands off before I lop them off.” Voice was cold and bitter. She had been so overjoyed of the sight of the Wolverine, a tangible proof that Logan was alive, that she had forgotten the first rule. The most important rule. Shiver run down her spine and she backed off from the Destroyer, gaze lowered to the ground, shoulders hunched. Small. Small, casual movements. Not a threat. Not a threat. Hands visible. Do not look at him. Back off slowly… Her body disobeyed. She turned around and started to run.

Fucking unbelievable. Enemy after all. He started after her. He would have to catch her before she got back to her own camp. He wasn’t going to let her alert possible capturers. She was fast, but not fast enough. He could outrun her easily. She was stupid enough to turn every now and then to look if he was following.

Last glance was too much. She realized it when something rolled from under her foot making her stumble and fall on her hands and knees. It was all over. Heavy weight landed on her back. Wolverine. She was out of breath and trembling when he rolled her over, straddling her thighs and pinning her wrists above her head, face looming just inches from hers.
“Thought you could get away from me?” Those yellow eyes scanning her face. Nostrils flaring. One hand tangling to her hair, other hovering over her ribcage.
“What’s your status?” She could only stare at him. She had no idea what he was speaking about.
“What’s your status, bitch?” Hard yank from her hair made her wince.
“I don’t understand…”
“Your fucking mutation! What’s your mutation?”

Definitely first-timer. Probably on training. Only reason to put perfectly healthy Breeder on BC. What she did on the front line was a mystery, but unimportant right now.
“My skin. I can drain life force and mutations,” she stuttered.
“Good.” He wouldn’t cut her up. Not yet. They could probably use her offspring back in the camp. There had to be somebody able to fuck with her. First he would have to find his way back there, but that couldn’t be so hard. All he had to do was to find fresh enough trail of his team.
“You’re coming with me.”

Breeder had tried to struggle, so he had knocked her unconscious and tied her with his belt. Confused he noted the state of his clothing. He was dressed as a civilian. Gone were the uniform and combat boots. Instead of them he wore soft, black trousers and a shirt, with brown, worn looking biker boots. He let it slip out of his mind. He was sure everything would clear up as soon as he got back to the camp. Most likely he had been caught by the enemy, and this time he had managed to escape. Clothes were probably stolen from somewhere. He hefted Breeder to his shoulders and gazed around. He could catch a faint whiff of his own scent, coming from somewhere deeper in the forest. He had been there. Logically thinking he should head to the opposite direction.

She woke up disoriented and groggy, her head lolling against his shoulder, body draped over his neck like a stola. Logan? Or Wolverine? She tried to move to a more comfortable position. World tilted and he dropped her to the ground. Yellow eyes swept over her. Wolverine. She took in their surroundings. Scorching hot desert. Kilometer after kilometer sand and small pebbles. In the distance she could see something green. Small patch of forest. Trail of footsteps leading to that direction.
“Oh, God…” Had she survived this long only to die to dehydration with Wolverine? Small bottle landed next to her on the sand.
“Drink up.” She took it and drank.

He had already taken few steps over the sand when he had realized they wouldn’t survive the desert without water. He had returned, and found a cabin. It had been quite disturbing to realize that he had obviously spent quite some time in there with his prisoner, but he had shrugged that off after finding a big pile of small plastic bottles, and a well from behind the cabin. He had filled the bottles with water and left. Now, hours later he was feeling the first pangs of thirst. From the looks of it she was parched. He couldn’t let her die. Not before he got some answers.

She flinched surprised when Wolverine crouched next to her and took the bottle from her. She nearly fell on her back, but Wolverine grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back to a seated position.
“I’m taking you to the camp. They could probably use a good Breeder there,” he said.
“I’m tired of carrying you around. Either I drag you or I free your hands and you walk nicely. Which is it going to be?”
“I walk,” she squeaked fast. Wolverine opened the belt that bound her hands behind her back and looped it back to his pants. She stood up, stretching her legs, feeling his gaze follow every movement she made.

She wasn’t injured and looked strong enough. It would take few days to catch the team he was trailing. Three Hunters and four Guards. They could probably guide him back to his own team. He rose and slid the bottle back to the backpack, sliding it to his shoulders. He had been carrying it on the front side for better balance when Breeder had been dangling on his shoulders.

“Why do you want to go back?” They had been walking for some time, when her question made him stop.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“You’re free now. Why do you want to go back there? Back to the Army?” She asked.
“That’s none of your business. Keep walking,” he grunted. She was thinking too much. Too many questions and thoughts running through that head of hers. Few years on duty would put her in her place that was sure. She would learn not to question.

Her seemingly unimportant and stupid question got stuck in his head. His mind kept replaying it over and over again, until he huffed and stopped, slumping to the hot sand on his ass.
“Why do you want to know?” He asked. She had walked forward, but after noticing he had stopped she returned to him and sat down.
“I’m curious.”
“You were on AWOL?” He asked. Breeder nodded hesitantly. Not quite true, but she wasn’t exactly lying either. He let it slip.
“Why? What made you want to run?” He asked. For a moment she just looked around, eyes watering. She didn’t cry, instead wiped her eyes to the sleeve of her shirt and turned to look at him.
“Things didn’t turn out the way I wanted. I had no choice but to leave.”
“They treated you wrong there?” That was surprising. Usually they took good care of breeders.
“Not exactly. But it was… It’s hard to explain. I felt like there was something wrong.” Not exactly an answer he had been expecting. Not an answer he had been hoping.

“Why do you care?” She asked. Wolverine sounded strangely interested.
“I don’t care. But your question made me think. It doesn’t feel good. Stop talking. I don’t want you to talk to me anymore,” Wolverine snapped and stood up.
“Okay…”
“Shut up. I don’t want you to talk.” She forced down word that tried to escape from her lips and simply nodded instead.

Not a good idea to talk. Talking wasn’t for him. It made him think. It made him start to question. More questions were forming in his mind every second. It was so fucking confusing, and made his head hurt. Bad. Bad. It would get better if he kept moving and she kept her mouth shut. Should get better. Had to. He was fucking falling apart. Something was trying to come through the walls he had built inside of him. Didn’t the fucker understand it was for his own good? He wouldn’t be even alive without him.
“Shut the fuck up!”

He wouldn’t shut up. One word kept repeating, a name. Marie. Over and over again, until he was sure his brain would start leaking out from his ears. Man was struggling in earnest. Never before had he done this. Never before had he tried to break free. He had known his place. He had known it wasn’t here and now.
“Logan?” She wasn’t helping by calling him. Something would break soon if she didn’t stay quiet, and it would be the end of this. End of everything. Man wasn’t strong enough to endure the stress in combat and constant beatings.
“Logan?”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” She was calling him, and he had only one choice left. He had done it before, in the beginning when man hadn’t understood his place and part in this macabre show called life. He had done it once, and it had worked. Scared the man back to hiding.

She could only watch in horror when Wolverine took his hands, balled to fists and pressed them against his thighs. Muscles on his forearms shifted. Sound of metal scraping against metal when claws tore their way out, parting skin and muscle, slicing in to him. Yellow in Wolverine’s eyes flickered and dimmed briefly.
“Get the hell away from me, kid…” Logan. For a second he was in charge.
“Take the backpack. Go. I’ll make sure I can’t follow…”

He had kept his word. She had taken the backpack and started to direction they had been heading, guessing Wolverine was on his way to the nearest settlement. It had taken her two full days to cross the scorching desert, fearing he would catch her, but she had made it.

It was a small village, much like her home had been. Few ramshackle huts surrounding quiet but tidy marketplace. One tavern, stable and few farmers selling their products. She had gotten a job as a waitress in the tavern. Place wasn’t exactly buzzing with customers so owner of the tavern couldn’t pay her salary, but in return of the hours she put in she got one room and three meals a day.

She was sweeping the floor when Carl walked in.
“I think we’ll close early today,” he said, locking the front door.
“And you better stay in your room the rest of the day. If you need anything, I’ll get it for you.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Marie asked, leaning to the broom.
“Army. That’s what’s going on. Caravan’s going through here. Don’t want those filthy animals in here. Don’t want them to get their paws on you either. So stay inside until they have passed.”

Carl wasn’t exactly fond of mutants, but Marie had approached him honestly, revealing the true reason why she kept herself fully clothed. Carl had huffed and muttered, watched her closely couple of days before deciding she was suitable person to work under his roof.
“My daughter was one. Army found her. Don’t know what happened to her after they carted her off. Don’t really want to think about it. But you could probably use this. We made it for Cathy. Only for her it was too late, but maybe this will help you,” he had said and given Marie a ring. She had taken it, studying it carefully. It was a simple smooth band made out of steel.
“It was supposed to hide her mutation. Army caught her before it was finished. Take it. I don’t want any troubles if they come searching for mutants.”

She finished sweeping, brushing the collected dust to the bin in the corner. Carl was behind the counter, arranging bottles.
“Hungry?” He asked. Marie shook her head. Just moments ago she had been, but now all she wanted to do was to go to her room. Familiar tightening inside of her made her run the stairs and lock the door behind her. She wasn’t going to cry.

She had last seen Logan a week ago, in the middle of the desert. Claws buried to his thighs. He hadn’t followed her, and she didn’t dare to think about what he had done. How he had stopped the Destroyer from following her. His fight with Camo had proven her he could be quite creative when it came to the business of hurting and disabling.

When she heard the ruckus outside, caused by the caravan and people watching it, she didn’t get up to see. She lay on her bed, willing the tears away.