“Didn’t have to do this to your mom. They chipped her alright, but with that blue stuff she got in to herself… It probably ate it off,” Logan said. They stood few meters away from his truck and he was holding a remote that would start the engine. Sam was fiddling with the wound on his bicep, trying to stem the trickle of blood from it.
“Blue stuff? You mean that blue powder that comes out of her skin, right?” He asked. Logan snorted.
“Have you seen what that ‘powder’ can do?” He asked and pressed the remote. Truck’s engine roared. Small flash of light and cloud of black smoke signaled the end of the tracking chip.
“I have seen it only once. She was sweating pale blue liquid.”
“You’re lucky she wasn’t more scared. We wouldn’t be standing here talking right now if she had lost it.”
“Logan, let Sam get some rest. And you should come to bed, too,” Marie’s voice floated to them from the doorstep of the stable.
“Yeah, yeah! We were just catching up…” Logan shouted. And then Marie was walking closer. She could smell Sam’s blood. She stopped next to their son and grabbed his arm, her eyes fixed to still bleeding gash on his bicep.
“What happened?” She asked, her eyes darting between the men. Logan cleared his throat, obviously at loss of what to say.
“I just tripped over and something poked at me. It’s nothing. Just go back to sleep, mom,” Sam explained hastily.
“Is that so?” Marie asked, letting her eyes drill in to Logan’s.
“If the boy says so. I’ll just finish with Ug and Glug and come to bed after that, okay?”
“Ug and Glug? Who the hell named these beasts?” Sam asked amused, picking up the curry Logan had discarded earlier.
“Watch it. Your brothers won’t appreciate you calling them beasts,” Logan rumbled.
“Figures. You could knock up mom, but instead you go and screw some camel. And you have the nerve to call me retarded…” Sam muttered.
“Raise your hand, palm up,” Logan asked. When Sam did as he told him to do, he slapped the curry he had been wielding to his outstretched palm.
“What the hell…” Sam squeaked puzzled. Logan smirked.
“Time to go ‘knock up’ your mom. Take good care of your siblings…”
Water from the well smelled a bit stale. He’d have to remember to check it out in the morning. It wasn’t unusual to find a dead mouse or even a rat floating down there. He washed himself thoroughly, and made sure that not a drop of Sam’s blood was left on his hands before he entered the cabin.
Marie was already sleeping. He could hear her breathing in the darkness of their bedroom. For a moment he pondered whether to wake her for a tumble, but decided against it. She wouldn’t be in the mood. He wasn’t in the mood. Hell, it would be a miracle if they ever got in to mood again. Wouldn’t happen as long as Sam was with them. Boy stirred up too many bad memories. Speaking of which… He walked to the fridge and took the beer he had been saving.
“There won’t become any better moment than this…” He muttered silently and opened the bottle, sitting in front of the fireplace and taking a sip.
What he couldn’t figure for the life of him was why Sam had lied to Marie. Hell, kid could have told her how Logan had tried to maim him. Marie would have sent him away in a blink of an eye and Sam could have gotten his mom all to himself. Not that he wasn’t grateful, but it was unnerving. He was in debt to his own son, for God’s sakes.
He finished his beer. Grimaced for the stale taste it left in his mouth. Cigar would have been better, but they were hard to come by, and he had smoked his last one when they had finished building the house. Those had been good days. No Ug and Glug. No field. Just a well filled with shit and whatnot, rickety house, him, and most important, Marie. A lot had happened since then, but this certainly took the cake.
When he had left Sam with the leader of the caravan he had been dead on sure that that would have been the last he would see the kid. He had figured out quite fast that Sam was the source of most of Marie’s fears and insecurities. Not on a conscious level. Hell, no. More loving mother or more devoted son you wouldn’t find even if you tried to look.
And now the bastard was back.
“Bastard indeed…” Muties didn’t marry. Even now, after it was declared that mutants were equal with men it was against the law to marry a mutant. Not that it mattered. He had kept a silent ceremony with Marie. Ceremony of their own as soon as they had gotten the house ready. He was quite sure that none of the religious groups in power would have condoned their joining, but for them it had been something good and beautiful.
He chucked the empty beer bottle in to cupboard and walked in to bedroom. Moonlight cast eerie glow over the bed where Marie laid. She had kicked off the covers, and there was a silvery gleam on her soft skin. He crawled on to bed carefully not to awake her and curled partially on top of her, tucking his face to the crook of her neck, and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be a new day, and perhaps they all could get through it in one piece.
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