Black suit. Check. Black overcoat. Check. Sunglasses. Check. Temperature? Somewhere between sun and inferno. Overall temper and sanity? Somewhere on their way to Mars. At least this shindig is over soon. Looks like Marie’s dad weren’t the popular one. He didn’t have friends, period. Not after neighbors heard what his mutie daughter did to one of them. One of the brightest, a promising football-star. All-American favorite golden pretty boy number one. Who had the fucking audacity to come over when we parked on Marie’s parent’s driveway and tell her to go to hell.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Mr. Logan. We have been worried sick, not knowing is she alright, is she even alive.” Yeah. Right. That’s why it took fucking two years before you tried to find her?
“She’s fine. Getting good grades. Lots of friends. She’s a smart kid.”
“And what is it that you teach, Mr. Logan?” Teach? Do I look like a fucking teacher to you?
“I’m not… I’m head of the security at Xavier’s. We thought it would be best if I came along.”
“She’s tired. And sad.” Duh! How the hell that smart kid came out of this moron of a woman?
“Perfectly understandable reaction under circumstances…”
“Oh, you must think I’m… Of course she’s sad over her father. But that’s not all.” Enlighten me.
“What do you mean, Mrs. D’Ancanto?”
“I don’t know what it is… I have never seen her like this…”
“Might be Bobby.”
“Who?”
“Her boyfriend. Bobby Drake. She got a call from him when we were on our way here. I got the impression it wasn’t pleasant news.” Far from pleasant. Fucker had the bright idea to break up with her right then and there.
“Oh… More coffee?” Good God, no. You wouldn’t know how to make decent coffee even if your life depended on it. I bet it was your coffee that made your hubby croak.
“No, thank you. It’s been a long day. I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Kid? You awake?”
“Yeah…”
“Want to talk?” Please, don’t. I don’t want to come in there. Her room. It’s so fucking tiny, filled with frilly knick-knacks and I feel already clumsy as hell, only watching it from the doorway. Would probably break the whole fucking place just by stepping in.
“No… It’s nothing.” Fuck. You know better than that, kid. You know better than do this to me. Don’t make me come in there.
“Bullshit. It’s Drake.”
“Logan…”
“I fucking saw it. Saw it from the beginning. I should have said something. Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s just… He left me because of Johnny. I never even had a chance.”
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re already dressed up. Let’s see how drunk we can get.”

Bar full of rednecks. Check. Sawdust on the floor. Check. Cage? Check. Unending supply of booze for the kid? Check.

“Sit here. Drink. I’ll go and see what these neighbors of yours are made of.”
“Be careful, okay?”
“You know me. I’m always careful.”
“I’m not worried about you. Don’t kill anyone, okay? They’re stupid, but that doesn’t mean they deserve to die.”
“I’ll try to be careful.” Not.
“You know I’m not even supposed to be here, right?”
“I don’t really care. Get drunk, kid. I’ll make sure you get home.”

“Didn’t I tell you to sit back there?”
“I couldn’t see from there.” Fuck. That kind of was the idea. She doesn’t need to ogle men beating the crap out of each other. Not tonight.
“Fine. Go get me something to drink.” And if that fucking MC doesn’t stop shouting soon…
“Listen, bub… Which one of your balls you want to keep?”
“Huh?”
“I have had a shitty day. If I have to listen you yapping your jaws one more minute, I’m liable to mop the floor with you. Got it?”
“Got it….”

“Aaaand, ladies and geeentlemen! Do you let this man walk away with your money!” I guess he isn’t too attached to his jewels. That fucking squealing is giving me a headache. Ahh… And there comes the cure for that problem…
“Thanks, kid. Now, sit down, and stay where I can see you, okay?”
“Okay.” Fuck. Beer tastes like shit. Booze isn’t any better. Like piss. And I do know what I’m talking about. Don’t ask.

“I know what you are, bitch…” What the fuck? Kid?
“Leave me alone!”
“You’re that mutie that put David to coma. Hey, guys! We have a real, live mutie here!” Oh, for fuck’s sake…
“Let me out. I’m done for tonight.” Do I stutter? Open that fucking door! Now!
“You came with her?” What the fuck is wrong with this guy?
“Open the fucking door.”
“Okay. It’s your funeral…” Won’t be mine. But there will be funerals. Several if those fuckers don’t let go of her right now.

“What’s going on?”
“Stay in the cage, Wolverine. This chick’s a mutie.”
“Oh, yeah? You sure about that?”
“She’s a fucking killer. Poison skin.” Oh, I know all about her skin…
“Let her go. You don’t want to mess with what’s mine.”
“Yours? You can have her. If you can take her.” Five? Five men? A fucking insult. Not even worth the trouble.

“Don’t touch!”
“Logan, you’re bleeding!”
“It’ll stop in a minute. Don’t touch…” Fuck… There were six of them. One crept from behind and stabbed me.
“I have to pull the knife out.” Knife?
“It’s a machete, kid… See?” Right through the gut. Handle in my back, blade sticking out from my stomach. Trust me, it’s a machete. Not a knife… I know these things.
“I don’t care what it is! We have to get it out!”
“We have to get somewhere safe first… They’re still after us…” Thank God she knows how to drive…

“It’s stuck.” No shit? I don’t feel too good…
“Grab it… Put your foot on my back… For more leverage…”
“Okay… Ready?” Don’t go fainting on me now, kid… I’ll fucking bleed to death if you don’t pull that fucking blade out of me…
“I’ll count to three… Then pull, okay?”
“Okay…”
“One… Two,” Oh fuckingchrist!
“There. It’s out.” Yeah.
“How’s your math, kid?” Oh, shit… Have to get up…
“Fine. Why? Let me help you a bit…”
“I told you… On three.”
“It worked on two, too.”
“Whatever. Have you packed your bags?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“As soon as we get to your parent’s place, go and do it. We’re leaving before those fuckers come looking for you there.”
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