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strange-dreams-are-made-of-these · 4 months ago

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Take My Whiskey Neat (Part 2)

Summary: Logan and his newfound daughter take a trip to Alkali Lake. One is in search of who he was before 1979. The other is looking for who her parents were before she joined Charles Xavier's school. Ghosts come back to haunt them both. How will they act when faced with these challenges? Part 1 Part 2Tags: father-daughter fluff, angst, canon typical violence, creepy stalker mentioned in first section, broken bones, use of firearms, use of an original character Word Count: 20k+ A/N: I do not own any of the characters mentioned except for Amaris Howlett. The divider credits are in my master list. Images found on Pinterest. Amaris' face claim is Devery Jacobs. Also, if you think something in here is written wrong (when it comes to the heritage of the character) PLEASE TELL ME!

Leaving the school hadn't been something she planned on being a forever thing. There would always be a part of her that stayed with the school, and it with her, beyond just the memories tied with it. Danger room sessions with her fellow X-men, crying to Storm when a boy broke her heart for the first time, supporting Jean when she thought she blew her chances with Scott, asking Charles why he gave her chance after chance every time she accidentally hurt somebody else. Of course, teaching the kids was another fond memory of hers.

Though none were more fonder than the sleepless nights she stayed up on the rooftop with him.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she saw Logan signaling to her, pointing at the next exit sign about a mile away. They had been driving for a good portion of the day before winding up in Toledo, Ohio. With the sun setting behind them, Amaris wondered if Logan wanted to continue riding along toward the Canadian border or if he wanted to find a place to stop for the night. They still had quite a way to drive to reach Alberta, let alone to get to the border of the countries.

Logan revved the motorcycle engine as he led Amaris and Jeep to the exit lane, aiming to find a place to lie low for the night. His mind had been whirling most of the drive, flooded with the memories of his life, the things he began to remember. The images that felt the most vivid were of him and Amaris when she was a baby. They were the warmest in his mind, a time of peace and comfort, along with the woman he saw. He couldn't believe he had a family, or that his memories and time with them had been stolen from him.

However, other memories flooded his mind. Brief glimpses of him in army uniforms, holding guns and other period clothing flooded his mind. So many visions of war clawed within his mind. He can remember certain scenes of different wars he had been in, remembering the look on other people's faces. He saw blood splattered across the floor of forests and pastures and heard bullets flying and ricocheting off of people and their environment.

What bothered him more was the pounding he heard in his head heavily outweighed the roaring of the engine of the motorcycle. He needed off of the hunk of metal, at least for a few hours.

The Jeep roared behind him as Logan found a little side-of-the-highway hotel to stay at, one of those big commercial ones. The big red sign advertised eighty dollars a night. It was the perfect pitstop for their long journey, and with a bar across the street, Logan knew he would find some peace and quiet in his mind.

He found a space to park the motorcycle, and Amaris pulled the Jeep up alongside him. As he stood up, the motorcycle creaked as it rose up into its normal fashion. Logan rubbed the palms of his hands, hearing his knuckles pop as if metal rubbed against each other. He watched as Amaris hopped out of the jeep, stuffing the keys into the pocket of her jeans. Neon lights began to illuminate the stretch of road they found themselves on before music from the bar began to play.

You are in charge of the rooms, kid, I need a drink. He tilted his head just enough to crack his neck before turning around and crossing the road.

Amaris rolled her eyes, grabbing both of their bags out of the jeep. She found her way to the main office, entering with the sound of little bells alerting the receptionist of her arrival. A little television was on a news channel.

"As of tonight, the New York police department, the FBI, and other governing agencies still do not know what happened on Ellis Island or Liberty Island last week. An up-and-coming group named The Friends of Humanity has deemed the act a mutant resistance, calling for a mutant registry. At this time, The Friends of Humanity have not been backed up by a governing body."

The receptionist hummed. We're better off without mutants. Freaks. The comment was made to himself, but with her slightly enhanced senses, Amaris was able to hear it.

If only he knew she was one of the few mutants responsible for the destruction on Liberty Island.

Or how many people she and the X-Men saved that night. Mostly the X-Men. All she managed to do was destroy parts of the museum and get her neck snapped by Sabertooth.

The man watched her as she approached the desk, setting the bags down at her feet. I need a room please, two queens.

He eyed her up and down, staring at her a little too hard for her liking. He looked down at a room registry he had, looking at the options. I can offer you a room with a king... and I'm not just talking about the mattress honey. He winked at her, smiling a half smile.

It appeared he had been missing the majority of his teeth, and the ones he still had were filled in with silver fillings. Amaris did her best to hide her physical repulsion from the heavier-set man. Sorry, I don't feel like sharing a bed with my brother. She remained firm in her response, though she could tell this didn't deter the man.

He looked back at the list, then clicked his tongue. hmm, I dunno...

Amaris looked over at the screen again, seeing the report about the mutants. About her, and her father, and her friends... her family.

Just, tell me you don't service... them... here. Speaking against mutants, against incredibly talented people like her students and her friends was something she would never do. It felt as if she had betrayed them with her words, but she knew others had to do the same thing.

He looked at the screen, then back to her. He nodded, writing in the document before him. It seems as if I do have a room left, with two queen beds. He produced two keys as Amaris handed him cash. What is the last name for the reservation?

Amaris squatted down, picking the bags back up. Howlett.She grabbed the keys after replying to him, making a quick exit, and turning in the direction of the hotel room. She closed her eyes for a moment, shaking the thoughts out of her mind. Calling her kind out like that just to gain the favor of the receptionist in exchange for a dry place to sleep for a while.

What would the Professor say?

Amaris had found the hotel room, entered it, and set their bags down on the beds. With nothing much left to do, she made sure to lock the door behind her, before entering the bathroom. She flipped the light on, the stale yellow-white light showed her the dingy countertop, small shower, and equally small toilet. She removed her jean jacket, turning and tossing it onto one of the beds. She began to run her hands through her hair, pulling the ponytail holder out.

Her hair was rather long, having kept to the traditions she read about growing up. She knew from an early age she had been Indigenous, mostly thanks to Charles Xavier who dug into her mind to see where she had come from. With his help, she was able to read and research about her native ancestors, the Blackfoot people.

Her hair was the biggest connection she had to her ancestors and her family. As it relaxed behind her, her hair stretched down to almost her waistline. The ends of her hair looked a little wind-sharpened. Nothing her hairbrush couldn't handle.

Her hair was the least of her concerns right now.

She could hear the door of the room creak open. Knowing she had locked it behind her and having both keys in her jeans pockets, she knew Logan wasn't around. She stayed facing the mirror, as the sink and counter area was exposed to the room behind her. She took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she listened to her surroundings.

She quickly snapped around, grabbing the wrist of the receptionist, pinning it backward to the point the man had grabbed his arm and began sulking backward. Next time, pal, I hope she isn't as merciful as I am.

He began to plead with her, sobbing "no's" between winces and groans.

Amaris flashed her teeth at him, as she growled her slightly sharpened canines shimmered in the dull light of the bathroom. Pull some shit like that again, and I swear to you, you won't be able to run back home with your tail between your legs. She then continued to walk him back toward the door, pinning his wrist back even a little further. She opened the door, making sure to lock the door behind her. Now, be a good little boy, and make like a retiree heading to Florida. She let go of his wrist, watching as he grabbed at it and held it close to his chest, turning around and making his way back to the office.

She knew it wasn't safe to be by herself right now, and she had a feeling Logan could easily get into some trouble here. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, walked through the little parking lot, and crossed the street.

The music grew louder, as did the sounds of voices flowing out of the bar. Logan sat at the corner of the bar, puffing on a new cigar he had tucked away in his jacket, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand before him on the bar top. His eyes darted from the glass to the mirrored-back bar watching the young woman enter the bar, walking up to his side and taking a seat. He turned to look at her, his fingers reaching out to take a strand of her hair between his index and middle finger. Has it always been this long?

Amaris pointed at Logan's glass when she made eye contact with the bartender before turning back to her father. Ever since we met last week. She really should have tied it back up again. I don't normally wear it down. It gets in the way.

Logan huffed a little as the bartender refilled his glass and brought one out to Amaris. He took another puff of his cigar, letting its smoke fill his throat and lungs before blowing the smoke out. I'm not a good person.

Amaris grabbed her glass, scooting it closer to her, the tips of her fingers covering the lip of the glass, holding her face with her other hand. What do you mean? She asked him.

He brought his glass up to his lips, swallowing the amber liquid in one gulp, setting the empty glass on the bar top. The burn was something he thought would bother him more than the conversation at hand, though here he was. I need to figure out what happened to me, what led me to where I am today. He tapped the ashes of his cigar into the tray sitting between them before he looked back at her. When the Professor...he gestured with two fingers to his temple, I saw things that I've only seen in the movies... and more.

Amaris looked at him puzzled. Her lips parted, intending to speak. However, she was caught off guard when a hand grabbed her head, forcing it into the bartop.

A shotgun was loaded, cocked as the hotel receptionist stood with two men. One of the men held Amaris' face into the bartop. Logan stood up quickly, his claws exposed. Amaris braced herself on the bartop, her bone claws were exposed, though with her hands not positioned in the right way, the two long claws that would appear at her knuckles were now forced through her palms. She groaned against the pain of the claws in their unnatural position and the sensation of the bridge of her nose grinding against the old liquor-soaked wooden bar. I told you she was a mutant! She attacked me at the hotel!

Some of the bargoers left the bar quickly, grabbing their items and leaving the scene. Some of the others stayed behind, unsure which side they would jump into.

Logan looked at the three men, pointing a hand toward them. You want to fight a mutant, fine. Fight me, leave her out of this.

The receptionist pointed the shotgun at Logan. You must be the brother she mentioned about. Mr. Big Man In Charge. I can see where she gets her sour attitude from.

Logan looked between the three men. He slashed at the shotgun, though not enough of it to disable the weapon. Kill the mutant bitch, Frank.

Amaris stepped on the man's foot, causing his grip on her to loosen a little. He dropped his head at the same time she threw hers backward. The back of her head and his nose collided. Amaris spun around, maneuvering the man around and throwing him behind the bar. Logan slashed at the gun again, destroying it as he eyed the clerk. Amaris moved around Logan, ducking down and kicking the man's feet out from underneath him, knocking the third man off of his feet and onto the ground. She was able to manipulate her claws back into her forearms, grabbing a fistful of the man's shirt at his neck, and standing over him.

Logan grabbed the other man by his jacket, Don't get me wrong, bub. She can have a sour attitude, and we share that. But that mutant bitch isn't my sister. Logan's eyes shifted back and forth as he looked down on the other man. He could smell just how terrified he was from the encounter. That's my daughter.

Amaris heard the words, though as rough and gruff sounding as he threatened the other man, Amaris instantly felt emotionally pulled to Logan. To her father. The man who just a few minutes prior stated he wasn't a good man. How did those words taste now?

Now, you just ruined my night, and I lost my cigar. Why don't I repay the favor by ruining that smug grin of yours? Logan brandished the claws from his right hand, a sinister glint in his eye as he smiled down at the man.

Amaris turned to look back at Logan. She knew they had to be better than that, to give mutants a fighting chance. Dad, we can't go around mutilating humans because they threatened us.

Logan held his eye contact with the heavier-set receptionist, shaking his head slightly. Mutilating? No. Plastic Surgery.

Amaris looked back down at the man below her. She let go of his collar, standing up straighter and running a hand through her hair. I think they got the picture.

Amaris turned to look at her father, though was met with a blade to her chest, right below her heart. The first man she tossed over the bar and came out fighting again. She groaned, feeling the blade begin to move as her muscles, tendons, and tissues began to regenerate before gripping the knife and pulling it out of her chest. That was not very nice. That hurt. She rubbed the spot where he had stabbed her, often finding open wounds extremely itchy as they healed. The man looked down at where her wound would have been, mortified as he watched it heal almost instantly with very little blood staining her shirt.

The man who had been lying on the ground had rolled over, getting to his feet, and ran out of the bar as quickly as he could. Logan stared at the man in front of him. Okay fat boy, you have about three seconds to get your glory hole friend here out of this place and go home before my patience decides to take a vacation.

Amaris nodded, still holding the knife in her hand. She bent her elbow in front of her, running the blade between the fabric of her shirt, wiping the blood away. Trust me, running home to Mama is the best-case scenario here. She whispered to the man, Frank, smirking a little.

The Howlett's watched the men run away in fear, grabbing onto each other as they hollered, leaving the establishment. Logan turned to look at Amaris, his once stone-cold facade cracked as Amaris found the concern that filled his eyes. She nodded a few times, waving her hand at him, letting him know she was fine. She put the knife in her boot, keeping it as a souvenir from the encounter. She walked back to her seat, picked the chair back up, and set it where she found it.

The bartender threw a rag over his shoulder, crossing his arms. He looked between the two mutants, shaking his head back and forth. Money is money, I don't care where it comes from. But I can't have you two here. Not because you're mutants, but because your presence has already drawn too much excitement for one night.

Logan grumbled under his breath walking out of the door in front of Amaris. She nodded, leaving some cash on the counter and grabbing the bottle he left where they had been sitting before following suit behind Logan. She looked down at her shirt, her fingers running over the sliced fabric. Look, let's get a couple of hours of sleep before we get back on the road.

Logan looked over at her as they crossed the street. You first. I still have a few hours left in me. It was a lie, but he couldn't stand being in Ohio for any longer than he needed to.

Amaris shook her head. You're the one on a two-wheeled machine that weighs as much as you do, if not a little more. She looked up at him, having been nearly half a foot shorter than him.

Logan continued to march on, almost ready to hop back on the motorcycle and continue to ride on. The only thing keeping him from doing so was his bag was now in the room, and he had no idea where he was going. I don't need somebody else to worry about me, he commented. He meant for it to sound absolute, however his tone betrayed him.

She could hear the slight fear in his voice, almost sounding like a whisper between the two of them. She handed him the bottle as an offering. She couldn't find any words that sounded right to reply to him. It was hard for her since she grew up in a safe place while he had wandered around without a clue about who he was or what he was. She had that luxury, he did not.

It was hard on him since he learned a few things about himself at the mansion. He had become a loner because of what a man did to him. He had nothing to go off of to find out who he was. Then to learn he had a family, a rather small one, but no less a family that he cared for and supported. Now, he was reunited with a young woman who was his young daughter once, at a point in both of their lives where they were dealing with their identities. Logan looked down at the bottle, accepting it from her, remaining silent.

Amaris led him to the hotel room, opened the door, and walked over to her bag. She pulled a CD player out with some headphones. She had a disc already loaded into the player, Hybrid Theory by Linkin Park. Logan looked at her, watching as she crossed the room again, taking a seat in the chair next to the little table. I told you, get some sleep. She responded, kicking both of her feet on the tabletop.

Logan took a swig from the bottle, narrowing a brow at her. He had plenty of time to brood around her, but he needed to make it to Canada. He sat down on the bed, kicking his boots off before leaning against the pillow and headboard and setting the bottle down on the side table. He relaxed his shoulders, shutting out the sounds of the world around him as police sirens could be heard approaching the bar. He thought they should have left, but he went against his better judgment, deciding sleep was better for them.

Amaris monitored the situation outside, parting one of the slits of the blinds to see the bartender meet the cops outside. He pointed down the road as they conversed. Music and lyrics filled her mind as she watched for nearly twenty minutes. The police left the bar, heading down the road in the direction the man pointed them. Amaris began to wonder if he was a mutant himself or just somebody unbothered and truly meant what he said earlier. There is still some good in people out there she thought to herself, looking away from the bar and back down to her CD player.

She skipped back to Crawling when she began to hear the subtle breaths of Logan who was drifting off to sleep. The lyrics suddenly became darker for her as she looked over at her father.

There's something inside of me that pulls beneath the surface, Consuming, Confusing

With a quiet exhale, Amaris looked away from Logan, looking down at her CD player wondering why she had decided to listen to this album.

In the early morning hours, Amaris and Logan loaded up the jeep with their items. There was no sign of the receptionist from the previous night or any of his buddies. Logan straddled the motorcycle again, a distinct creak of the metal filled the air briefly before he turned the engine over. They had enough gas to get them out of Ohio before needing to make another pitstop. Logan led the way, pulling out of the parking lot as Amaris followed him in the jeep. Logan seemed intent on leaving Toledo as quickly as possible. After the events of last night, she didn't blame him.

Amaris had never been to Canada before. The furthest west she has been is Nevada. There was a conference about mutants that her very good friend Dr. Hank McCoy invited her to. He was more like an uncle to Amaris if she had to label it. He is incredibly smart beyond his years. He had been one of her teachers once before he was elected into office, Secretary of Mutant Affairs. Amaris remembered the party the mansion had when he left, wanting to send him with a warm send-off. Hank had always been an honored guest at the school, serving as one of its first round of teachers, and a X-Men himself.

It was strange to discover she had been Canadian, though she knew everybody came from someplace. She wondered if Logan too had been originally from Canada. With the way he looked, he only appeared in his younger to mid-thirties, despite being at least old enough to be her father. She was twenty-four now, choosing to celebrate her birthday on the first of every year because she did not know when her actual birthday was. It felt nearly impossible to know that information now. If they lucked out, maybe they could find some information about Logan, and in turn, maybe about her too.

Or her mother. Kayla.

Amaris and Logan had crossed the Canadian border three hours prior. It was a nervous process for Amaris as it had been the first time she left the United States, though Logan seemed so calm and cool about the situation. He led the charge, stating they were returning home to pick up a few things before heading back to New York. She admired how quick he was to come up with a story, and Amaris was quick to follow up with it.

They arrived in Calgary, needing to find their next place to rest up for a bit. Logan had wanted to find a spot to drink while Amaris was more invested in doing research. She needed to find somewhere for them to start, and logically the library was the best place to start. Logan watched as Amaris grabbed her coat, using the thicker one that she packed since it had been colder out today. You really think you are going to find something at the library?

She turned to look at him, having just finished braiding her hair in a single braid. I'm sure I can find something out about Alkali Lake. You need to have all the information you can get so you can find some answers.

Logan finished lacing up his boots. What do you get out of all of this? We've driven well over a thousand miles in four days. Just for what? A road trip?

Amaris shook her head. I've had others help me figure out who I was, as a person, my whole life. I just want to repay that favor, and hopefully, help you not find out who you are. I want to help you remember what you were.

Logan stood up, approaching Amaris as he looked her over. He still couldn't shake the image of the woman, Kayla, out of his mind. He could see Kayla in Amaris, and he could see himself in her. It was rather unsettling for him, only because he knew that he had been emotionally tied to her already. He wouldn't know what to do if something happened to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding as his lips pulled into a thin line. Don't get into any trouble here. I know you attract trouble.

Amaris looked up at him, confused if he was just saying that, or if it came from potential concerns about her. I'll behave. The only scrape I can get into is with a piece of paper from a paper cut. I promise.

Logan nodded, then dragged a finger over her hair again. I like it like that. It suits your face. Logan stepped away, grabbing his wallet, passport, and keys. This gave Amaris time to leave, heading out of the hotel room and walking toward the stairs.

To have a dad was a strange feeling for her. Somebody who cared for her, well that was something else. Her family was Charles, Scott, Ororo, Jean, and Hank. She had a familial bond with students like Jubilee, Kitty Pryde, and Bobby Drake. She had a couple of lovers in the past, all of them having left the school to go down their own paths.

Some days she felt she could still hear him walking around the school, or smell his aftershave. Her mind would play tricks on her in her most vulnerable moments, often feeling his presence wrap her up in a cool embrace when her mind was fighting between waking up and going back to sleep.

She approached the jeep, hopping into the driver seat and turning the engine over. As she settled into the seat, a big gust of wind kicked up behind her, and just as fast as it rolled through, the wind rolled right out. It certainly caught her attention, along with the very faint scent that came with it.

It couldn't be. It was just another trick of the mind, reminding her that no matter how much of a mutant she was, she still was human at the end of the day.

Amaris left the parking lot of the hotel as Logan left the hotel room, watching her drive off toward the library. He was ready for a drink, and maybe some pool. He knew he was acting hard on her, acting as if the situation wasn't something natural. He was having a hard time believing that he had been nobody to everybody nearly two weeks prior. Now he was a part of the X-Men, and he was a father. Or that his daughter was an adult in her mid twenties.

That he had forgotten about her.

It was honestly for the best for her. He couldn't fathom being a father. Could mutants reproduce? It seemed like a silly question, seeing as they were nothing more than humans. They just happened to have special abilities, as Charles taught him. What was so special about steak knives in his arms and healing abilities?

Logan huffed, heading toward the motorcycle, wanting his drink as quickly as possible, and space between him and Amaris.

While Logan went on the hunt for his next drink, Amaris found her way to the library. She was honest when she said she was going to do some research about the lake, however, she had a few more keywords she wanted to search. Howlett, Logan Howlett, Kayla, Kayla and Logan.

Selfishly, she wanted to know where she came from. What hospital was she born in? Where did her parents meet? Where did they live? Alberta in the Seventies had to be different from the turn of the century.

She parked the jeep, grabbing the notebook and folder she brought with her. She was going to find some answers, no matter how much time she had to invest in it. She owed it to Logan. She owed it to herself.

It was easy to gain access to the library. She approached the counter to speak with one of the librarians. Hey there. Can you help me find some information about Alkali Lake? There was a military base there, and I was hoping there was something about that here.

The older woman looked at her. Alkali? She asked her, confused before shrugging her shoulders. I'd suggest looking in our geography section. Third row to your right, toward the middle of the aisle. If not, come speak with me and I'll give you computer access.

Amaris nodded, parting ways with the older woman before heading for the section. Every footstep she took felt heavier and heavier as if walking into impending trouble. She could feel her breath hitch in her throat as she entered the aisle. A pounding sound echoed in her mind as she walked in the row, approaching the section.

She turned, scanning over the many rows of books. Her eyes read the spines as quickly as she could, eventually reading one that caught her eye. Alkali Lake: A History.

She reached out to grab the book at the same time a slight breeze swept past her. A figure now stood with their back leaning against the bookshelf. The book she was once focused on was now in their hands. He opened the book, flipping through the pages. Princessa, I did not know you were interested in lakes. His voice was velvety smooth as always, though his posture was different.

Amaris looked up at the man, his accent filling her ears once again. His aftershave filled her nostrils as the fabric of his jacket rested at his sides. Pietro?

He closed the book, leaning away from the bookshelf, handing the book over to her. What is the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost. His icy blue irises pierced her hazel eyes. Suddenly, they both were twenty and twenty-three all over again. He thought she hadn't changed in the slightest, albeit her hair was longer now.

Amaris took hold of the book, observing his features. His eyes and his hair were much different now. He almost looked much happier. Not a ghost, she commented, pressing her brows together. You changed your hair. The roots of his hair remained dark brown, though he bleached the majority of its length. Did you cross paths with Justin Timberlake?

Pietro nodded, running a hand through it. Do you like it?

Amaris smiled, nodding as he took a step closer to her. She exhaled sharply, then took half a step backward. What are you doing here, Pietro?

He chuckled a little, then pouted his lip. Maybe I missed you? He watched her as a flush of pink graced her cheeks. Last time I checked, this isn't New York. And it's certainly not the mansion. What are you doing up here?

Amaris looked down, needing to break herself away from his gaze. This didn't make any sense. What was Pietro doing in Alberta? Uh.. I'm doing some self-discovery. It wasn't lying, but she wasn't telling the whole truth.

Something the man knew about Amaris was her inability to keep eye contact when she was hiding something. Come on. How long has it been? Three years?

Amaris looked back up at him, doing her best to keep a stone expression. Four. Four years since Pietro decided to leave the mansion, wanting to find his father and know why he and his sister were pawned off to the care of Charles Xavier when their powers were activated. Something Amaris couldn't blame him for wanting, but to do everything in his power to keep her from joining him on his trip was something else.

Pietro whispered lowly between the two of them, holding his hands out to his sides as if throwing in the towel. What is that place? He asked, pointing at the book.

Amaris pulled the book toward her chest. I don't know yet. That's why I'm studying it.

Pietro spun on his heels, placing a hand on her shoulder. Perfect. We can study this book together, then. He had been more than half a foot taller than her, though Amaris had been shorter than most people she had met. She stood at a solid five feet and two inches tall on a good day. With Pietro being nearly six feet tall, she often found herself climbing on objects to be somewhere near or at his eye level. Before she could even put up a fight, she found herself walking in tandem with Pietro toward an empty table. Just like old times.

Amaris watched as he took a seat at the table, then she followed suit. Settling the book down on the tabletop, she reached for her notebook. The sound of whirling air filled the space again. Once she had her notebook and pen in hand, she looked back up to see him looking through the book again. Too bad super speed doesn't come with speed reading.

Amaris reached over the table, taking the book from him. Believe me, I remember. She rested back in her chair, flipping to the index of the book. You never answered my question from earlier. Why are you here, Pietro? She peered up, staring at him over the book.

I could listen to you say my name all day long, he cooed, finding it rather relaxing. He crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair as he balanced it on the back two legs. I haven't heard from my sister in a couple of weeks. Last place I knew her to be was in this freezing hell hole.

So you came to the library? Please, I know you better than that. Amaris flipped to a chapter in the index that piqued her interest, rolling her eyes at his comment.

Pietro hummed a little, looking at her. No. But the sound of Summers' motorcycle rolling through the city was certainly something of interest to me. He rested all four legs of the chair on the ground before leaning on the table. So where is Summers?

Amaris looked up at Pietro, fumbling with the pen in her left hand. In New York, with the others. Amaris brisked over the sentences in the book, pulling out a few points. A location of an old quarry. Knowing militaries could be finicky about their locations, she wanted to make note of the quarry.

Pietro tilted his head, looking at the notebook she was writing in. Then who's on the bike? Your new boyfriend? He tested her, wondering what he was up against.

She looked visibly disgusted. Gross, no. A year was written, 1973. He's a friend. Scott and Ororo saved him a couple of weeks ago near Laughlin City, just north of here.

Pietro nodded, pressing his lips together. So you are just escorting him home with Summers' motorcycle.

Amaris set the pen down, looking at Pietro. Didn't you say your sister was missing? Isn't that more important than wondering if I'm dating anybody?

So, you are single. He commented, smiling again.

She tapped the pen on the notebook, her patience running thin with him. I have other things I'm doing right now.

Pietro nodded again, looking into her eyes again. Like destroying Liberty Island?

Amaris set the pen down on the notebook, Sssush! she commanded, then looked around to make sure people did not hear him. She looked back at him, clenching her jaw momentarily. How do you know about what happened on Liberty Island?

Pietro chuckled looking at her expression. World leaders gathered on Ellis Island, and some funky shit goes down on Liberty Island. Mutants are to blame. X-Men were obviously involved.

Amaris crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair as she crossed her legs. What do you want to know?

For starters, what are you really doing here?

A pair of boots could be heard approaching the table. The heavy smell of a freshly smoked cigar filled the air. Amaris knew her father was within feet of her. She smirked, knowing it was her out of the conversation.

Logan walked up behind her, noticing the other man. He observed him, quickly deciding something was wrong with the conversation at hand. Is everything okay here? He asked Amaris, standing behind her.

Amaris smirked at Pietro. Yes. She turned to look up at Logan briefly before looking back at the icy man. Just catching up with an old friend.

Pietro chuckled a little. You have a funny way of describing friends, Princessa. Logan eyed him, and a very low growl could be heard emitting from his throat.

Amaris smirked, knowing this was more for her entertainment than anything else. Pietro, this is Logan. My father.She watched as his smug grin began to evaporate. Logan, this is Pietro Maximoff. He was a student at Charles' school. She could hear the shift in his posture as she spoke. Pietro is my ex-boyfriend.

Pietro stood up quickly, adjusting his jacket. He never knew Amaris to have a father, nor to expect him to look so young. Logan watched him, silent as he watched the man squirm around. Your fath- Pietro's lips drew into a flat line again. It's nice to meet you, sir. I need to go, though. I need to find my sister.

Logan watched him, a master of the uncomfortable situation, as Pietro backed away, retreating from the mutant duo. He exhaled the breath he held onto, then walked around the table and sat down. What was his deal?

Amaris shrugged her shoulders. I don't know. He was always skittish. She looked back down at the book, picking up the pen again. A word to the wise, never date somebody with super speed. You'll regret it.

Logan nodded. Is he trusted enough to know about us?

Amaris nodded, scanning through the book again. Pietro is known for a lot of things. Betrayal and snitching isn't one of them. She looked back up at him after writing some more brief notes. What happened with the drink and pool?

Logan shrugged his shoulders. The scene is rather dead right now. Plus, I knew you couldn't stay out of trouble.

Amaris looked up at him, narrowing one eyebrow. She set the pen down, studying Logan for a moment. She studied his features, how he sat in the chair, how smug he looked poking fun at her time spent with an unexpected visitor. Misery keeps company.

An older man approached the table, appearing in his early sixties. Logan? Logan Howlett? Is that really you, boy?

Logan was quick to turn to the man, running a hand over the back of his neck. Me?

Amaris knew this was an opportunity they needed to find more information. Oh, sorry sir. This is my brother, Robert. Logan is our father. She watched as Logan looked back at her, winking at him to make him play along.

The older man was still fixated on Logan. His lip quivered as he spoke. Really? No kidding! Logan would have to be well into his fifties by now. My God, rest his soul.

Amaris was quick to respond again. Yes, he truly is his father's son. She paused for a moment, thinking about the later part of his sentence. Yes, I was still very young when it happened. Robert had a car accident not too long ago and he is experiencing some amnesia.

Logan looked from Amaris up to the older man, nodding. Right... yes. Really bad accident, as I have been told. He gently kicked her foot under the table, earning him a glare.

The older man nodded a few times, then turned to the girl. You must be little Amaris! Oh heavens, I remember your parents pulling up to the yard with you in the middle. You even took a little tumble in my office once. Logan was so quick to pick you up. He was mortified every time, constantly looking for scratches or bruises. You were a tough little cookie.

Her eyes softened a little, hearing the story the man told them. She struggled to push those feelings to the side as she continued her investigation. The yard?

The older gentleman chuckled a little, holding his belly. The lumbar yard. I doubt you would remember any of that now. You're much too young for that.

Logan looked up at the older man, placing a hand on his hip as he spoke. You know, I can't remember where the yard is. I keep trying to remember, but it all is still very blurry.

The older man nodded, placing a hand on Logan's shoulder. It was about an hour and a half west of here. There's a house built on it now, but the yard was there. A little lumber mill area that was operational in the seventies. Logan didn't make much, like the rest of us, but he made it work for his family. The man squeezed Logan's shoulder, proudly looking down at him.

His family? Amaris asked. Sorry, that sounded obvious, didn't it?

The man nodded. Most of the other guys didn't understand Logan. He was focused on his work and remained silent most of the day. However, he always smiled when he saw Kayla. She was a pretty young woman, she would be proud to see how big her little one has grown. Just as beautiful.

Kayla was a pretty woman.

Kayla was.

A woman appeared at the table. There you are, Hank. You can't run off like that. She gently scolded the man, taking hold of his arm with hers.

Hunny, look. He pointed to Logan and Amaris, proudly beaming. It's Logan's kids.

The woman turned to look at the two mutants. Her face lit up as she recognized their features. Her face then drew into shock, as if she had been seeing ghosts. It can't be.

Amaris looked over at Logan briefly, rolling her eyes to hint they should go. Logan ignored the direction, pressing on. We were just on a little trip. We were passing through, and we remembered Dad was from south Alberta. What was the harm in trying to find out some things about him?

The woman nodded, clinging to her husband's arm. Logan was such a hard worker. He was very reserved. I remember the day we found Kayla... and the car accident.

There seem to be a lot of those, lately, Logan commented, earning him a kick from Amaris.

What do you mean by finding Kayla? And the accident?

The married couple looked at each other, a somber look in their eyes. They silently agreed, then took the other two open seats at the round table. They held hands, resting them on the top of the table before the man began to speak. It was the summer of seventy-nine. Late summer, as school had started back for the young ones. Logan and Kayla pulled up to the yard, that Camino was an amazing car.

Hank, these kids came here to find out about their dad. Not his car.She spoke, squeezing his arm.

Amaris picked up her pen, slid her notebook in front of her, and kept eye contact with the couple.

Anyways. Kayla drove off as Logan and the rest of the boys loaded up and headed out to the site. Some of the men said Logan had acted funny. One thing led to another, and Logan ran away from the site. The gentleman looked down at his hands, shaking his head. You would have thought him a deer or a baby moose with how fast he was running. We called out for him, thinking he was suffering from the effects of the heat.

We found Kayla's body. She had been attacked in one of the clearings. It had to have been a bear, or a mountain lion. There was so much blood. He continued on, seemingly a little more upset each time he spoke. Amaris looked over at Logan, trying to read his face as they listened to the story. His expression from his nose down was solid, mirroring that of a brick wall. His eyes betrayed him, revealing the shock and horror he felt internally.

The older woman began to speak. The next day we found the Camino crashed into a tree near one of the bigger bridges around here. The floorboard was littered with whiskey bottles and beer cans. We searched for several days, but we could only come to the conclusion that..

The opening under the bridge leads into Alkali Lake. It was nearly a hundred-foot drop. If anything survived an impact like that, there wouldn't be much left to battle the current from the waterfall to the lake. The man finished the story, feeling the need to owe it to the two younger people.

Logan remained silent, Amaris could hear his heart race as his chest began to swell with bigger and more rapid breaths. Do you know what happened to their house? She asked, wondering if, by some miracle, it was still there two decades later.

The woman nodded. Yes, it's still standing, though it's in quite disrepair. Some say they can feel their spirits there, living as if life hadn't moved on from them. It's a big reason why it never sold and was just left abandoned.

Logan broke his silence, tracing a small circle on the table with his index finger. Where can we find it?

The older woman nodded, holding her hands out to Amaris for the pen and paper. Amaris made sure to flip her work over to the next page and hand over the items. She scribbled the address on the sheet of paper and then handed the items back. I don't know what will be left over there if you're looking for something in particular.

The man nodded, staring intensely at Logan. I never remembered Logan to have a boy.

The woman shook her head. Hank, our memories are failing us. He looks just as handsome as Logan though. She then turned back to Amaris, smiling warmly. You should stop by and see Koko.

Who's Koko? Should I know her? Amaris asked, quickly writing down the name.

The woman waved her hand. No, but Koko can help you find some pieces of your mother's heritage. She has a little shop next to the post office. She sells things she makes with her family. The beadwork is amazing. She also happens to have some records about Blackfeet families for the last seventy years.

Amaris nodded, closing the notebook. Logan took this as his sign to get up from the table. Thank you for your time. We appreciate what you could tell us about good ole Dad. He turned to walk toward Amaris, wrapping an arm around her shoulder after she gathered her things, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. Really? Amnesia?

Amaris hummed a little as the father and daughter made their way to the exit. He won't remember by tomorrow, she spoke confidently.

How can you tell, Logan questioned her.

As they crossed through the doors, she turned to look at him. He is sick. There is something wrong with him. He has a tumor, I think in his head.

Logan narrowed an eyebrow at her. How can you tell?

Amaris sighed a little heavily. When I was younger, maybe around thirteen, I could smell this really strange smell on one of my teachers. It smelled like heavy minerals, mostly iron. I kept pleading with him to see a doctor. Turned out he had a mass on his kidney, noncancerous thankfully. After that, Charles and Jean helped me practice my sense of smell. I was able to detect tumors easily, but then I began smelling colds and flu before others knew they were sick. She looked down, chuckling a little. I could heal from those ailments very quickly, but I always knew when others were sick before they ever started showing signs and symptoms.

Logan looked down at her. That's how you knew Kelly was sickly? She merely nodded in response to his question. That's impressive.

Amaris chortled, Not as impressive as smelling emotions. That certainly gives you a major step up on the battlefield.

Logan groaned a little, letting go of her shoulder. Yeah, let's keep the battlefield talk to a minimum. He had still been battling the visions he saw about different war zones he had been in. I tell you what, why don't you go to that shop the old lady was talking about.

Amaris watched him as he walked over to the motorcycle. What are you going to do?

Logan mounted the motorcycle, fishing for the keys. Keep my distance, make sure Mr. Blue-eyes stays away from us. Before she could get a word out, Logan revved the engine of the motorcycle, moving it to a better position to take off. He didn't bother waiting on the younger woman, choosing to head toward the post office himself. It couldn't be that hard to find, though he could give himself some time to think.

Logan had plenty of new things to think about now, and with each passing day, it became increasingly harder to not think about at least one soft spot he had. He had found himself taken to Storm. He couldn't tell if it was her warm eyes, her cool touch, or her demeanor. She commanded the room and the skies. He found himself thinking about her in the time passing from town to town from New York to Calgary. She seemed to pop up in strange places when things seemed to be coming to a head. She soothed over what the problem was, and then directed the next move.

He wondered how she was doing. What was she doing? Maybe teaching a class? Or running a mission with the others. Or she could have been on a date with a man he didn't know about. Or showering by herself.

Amaris honked the horn behind him, gesturing to the light as if it had been green. He exhaled, taking off again as the two traveled through the city. Still, he couldn't get her out of his brain.

About an hour later, Logan was leaning against a wall, his arms crossed as he stared at the storefront. Amaris had been inside for a while now, speaking with Koko. He could hear a phone ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out, looking more like a shiny belt buckle. It was a design for the X-men, allowing them to communicate with each other. Hello? Logan asked, still keeping his eyes on the storefront.

Logan, how's the trip going?

He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening a little. Her soft voice filled his ear canal, and he could almost feel his arms chill up. Huh, didn't think I'd be hearing from you. He shifted his weight around, kicking a rock before looking at Koko's place again.

Storm giggled a little, sounding amused. You have a promise to uphold. I have something of yours, so you must come back at some point.

Logan nodded. Oh yes, I remember. The missing weight from his neck had been a brief reminder of what his next steps had been after looking into Alkali Lake.

Good. Then your memory should serve you well in order to answer my previous question. She mused, a different tone in her voice, one that conveyed professionalism, but also personal inquiry.

Logan took in a deep breath, crossing one arm over his chest and tucking his other elbow on his wrist as he held the phone up to his ear. We made it to Calgary super early this morning.

Storm hummed a little at the words. That's impressive. You guys must have hardly slept.

Had she really been worried about their rest instead of how the trip was going? There's a difference between catching a few Z's and sleeping.

Oh? She asked, sounding rather quiet on her end. What's the difference?

Logan whispered darkly, I'll teach you when we make it back.

Storm was silent for a moment, though not too long. Come now, Logan. You know, it sounds like you're flirting.

Logan watched as Amaris left the store, a bag in her hands as she turned toward the Jeep. Oh doll, you don't know me well enough. He had smirked at the end of his sentence. His eyes caught a brief glance as something blue caught his eyes. There had been a side door that blocked the view of who was inside. However, Logan could clearly see the frosted hair and light blue jacket combo. Hey Storm, can you do me a favor?

Storm seemed a little caught off guard. Yeah, I suppose I can.

Tell me everything you know about Pietro Maximoff.He watched the young man, who appeared to be speaking to whoever had answered the door.

Pietro?She stammered the name a little, quickly thinking about what she knew. He was a student here. He left about four years ago. He wanted to travel the world.

Logan nodded, now standing off of the wall and dropping his crossed arm to his side. He and Amaris?

Storm's voice dropped a little, sounding sad. Amaris hurt him in the danger room one day. Just a scratch on his forearm. They had a fight about it. He called her an animal and said feral animals belonged in cages. He left the next morning. She hadn't been sure she should have been telling him that information. Is everything okay, Logan?

The older man watched as the younger one left very quickly, in less time than a blinking eye. Yeah... His eyes then drifted to Amaris watching as she loaded up the jeep. Thanks.

Storm pouted a little on the phone. Logan?

His glance shifted a little to the distance as she spoke. Yeah?

Storm hesitated a little, then mustered the courage to speak again. Can I ask a favor?

Sure, he whispered.

Take me out when you get back.

His eyebrows lifted a little, hearing the request. His heart felt as if it had raced a little, stuffing his hand in his jacket pocket. Yes ma'am. Logan knew he would have to leave, and see what was up with Amaris and the store owner. I'll talk to you later. Logan hung up the phone before he could give Storm enough time to respond, then tucked the phone back into his pocket.

He walked across the street, approaching his daughter. Find anything good in there, kid?

Amaris had turned around to face him, sporting a new braid in her hair with some beads in the colors of orange, yellow, and red. I couldn't tell if I was ever going to get out. She mused a little at the thought. Nothing about Kayla could be found here. But Koko was sure to send us on our way with some elk jerky.

Logan wasn't sure what to make of it, nor about seeing Pietro snooping around. Let's take today to unwind from driving. We can leave tomorrow and head on out.

Amaris looked up at her father, giving him a nod. He turned around, heading back to the motorcycle. She had watched him as he peered around in all directions as if he was looking for something. She grew a little concerned, wondering if he had remembered something else from his past, or if he was itching to get out of Calgary now.

The Jeep was packed with their belongings. Logan had fixed his backpack, making sure they had items like flashlights, matches, and some other items. He didn't need the flashlights as he could easily navigate the dark with his night vision. He wasn't sure why he was able to do this, other than having heightened senses. Still, it was for peace of mind to have.

Amaris had bundled up, wearing a dark red shirt paired with a brown flannel and a cargo jacket. Her boots were tightly laced, and her bag was resting in the passenger seat of the jeep.

The two had traveled up the mountain range a little, finding a clearing they could stop at. Amaris took a moment to appreciate the mountains. The top was covered in a thick layer of snow, the trees barren as the wind kicked past them and out over the open body of water. It had smelled so fresh, the innocence of the lake below them and the untouched snow above them. It was simply beautiful.

Logan scanned over the area, for the first time in a while hearing nothing. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling free from everything beyond the two of them. His mind could rest as he felt the peace the scenery provided them.

This peace wouldn't last long, as they both had their own missions. He exhaled, feeling the cool air he exhaled rush back on his face. I'm going to the quarry by myself. You should go to the house. He sounded firm in his instructions as if giving commands to the masses. We both have things we need to do, and we can't be in each other's way.

Amaris looked up at him, pressing her brows together. How do you know that?

Logan turned and looked down at her, putting one hand on her shoulder. Because what I am looking for isn't what you are looking for. He watched her as her eyes searched his. I'm looking for me. Who I am, who I was. You're looking for your parents.

Amaris exhaled a little, sounding like a gasp. I want to help you.

Logan shook his head as he watched her. Sometimes you have to do things on your own. He wasn't a sentimental guy, at least he believed that. He knew he had some things to work out on his own, but he couldn't subject her to his darker past. Logan closed the distance between him and Amaris, bringing his other hand to cup the back of her head. He embraced her, for the first time since he woke up in the infirmary.

Amaris hadn't been used to gestures like these from parental figures. Charles was her father figure, and he did his best. Yet, this was different. It was her father wrapping his arms around her. She could finally feel that security blanket she had been missing the majority of her life. It felt warm enough to burn her skin and heavy enough to bury her. It felt like home, what it should have been.

Logan placed a brief kiss on her hair, pulling away from the hug as he pinched the braid Koko had put in her hair. The pad of his thumb ran over the beads in her hair as his eyes lingered over them. Let's meet back here. If either of us don't return by this time tomorrow, take this phone and call the X-Men. Logan showed her the phone, put it in a bag, and then walked over to a tree, hanging it up on a barren branch.

She placed a hand on her hip, watching him as he hung the bag up. Does it have to be up so high? She joked at first, needing to exert some of her emotions. As he turned to face her, a smile crawled on his face, shaking his head as he looked down. Don't give me a reason to use the phone. She told him sternly.

Logan chuckled a little, now holding the keys to the motorcycle in his hand. Don't make me hunt you down.

The duo shared another look at each other before Logan mounted the motorcycle again. As he turned the engine over, some of the snow beneath him shifted. He started to climb up the road of the mountain again, leaving Amaris behind him.

The young watched her father as he continued on his drive, crossing her arms over herself, savoring the last little feelings from her father's warm embrace. It would be something she would hold onto until she saw his face again. She turned away from the beautiful scene of the snow-covered mountains and the still lake waters, entering the Jeep again. She turned the engine over, with only one thought on her mind. Please, Professor, watch over us. A simple plea was muttered before Amaris turned down the fork of the road, now making her way down the mountain pass toward the location of the house. The paper map had been weighted down on the passenger seat next to her, being her guide of where she was going.

For the first time in nearly twenty-one years, Amaris had been on her own.

And she was scared as hell.

She had turned the radio back on, playing a mix tape she had brought with her. The sweet instrumentals of Zombie began to play. The music filled the empty space of the Jeep, yet it still never reached her mind. There were so many questions she had been asking herself, and she was running short of proper resources to find those answers.

Nearly two hours later, Amaris came across the entrance of the road that would lead her to her childhood home. The closer she approached, the more she felt something was wrong. It couldn't be this easy to find the house without something going wrong. Her heart felt as if it would burst, and the pounding in her head grew louder and louder. She stared down the road, looking out to see the edge of one of the cliffs maybe a mile down the road. There hadn't been much foliage aside from some snow-covered bushes and grass. She had been so high up on the mountain that she could see bits of clouds that were leveled with her.

The woman shook her head, leaning against the steering wheel, a warm ball pooling in her stomach. She looked up to the sky as she heard the screeching of an eagle. She watched as it flew above her, circling a few times before turning toward the house, flying nearly parallel to the road. Amaris leaned back in the driver's seat, putting her foot on the gas pedal as she followed behind the bird.

She approached the house, seeing some piles of debris that were scattered about the property. The cabin house looked as if it was built in a circular shape with large beams on the roof covered in whatever debris could be tossed around. She shut the engine off, stepping out of the vehicle slowly as if her presence would notify an unsuspecting guest.

The eagle had landed on one of the beams that rested above a broken glass door. It watched as the young woman walked up a couple of steps where a once magnificent deck had been built. She covered her hair with her hands as she stepped into the cabin home through the broken glass doors. It had been four in the afternoon, according to her watch, but the inside portrayed a very different setting.

Aside from the bits of sunshine that poured in from the holes in the roof, the cabin home had been cast in darkness. She took a quick scan from right to left, looking at furniture that hadn't been touched in twenty years. The air had been a little stale-smelling, knowing not much had passed through this place aside from the occasional looter.

Amaris approached a medium-sized, round dining table. There had been a newspaper on it, the edges curling in as the paper had faded to a yellow hue. The words were hardly legible at this point, making its date useless. A wooden bowl had been knocked off along with a salt and pepper shaker. One chair remained, turned out to face the kitchen area.

She stepped over the piles on the floor where the ceiling had fallen in or where animals had made little nests to use. Some of the cabinet doors had been opened up, and a stary plate here and there remained. The young woman picked one up, running a finger around the rim of the plate.

Creak

Amaris turned around, exposing a blade she had in her shirt sleeve, throwing it in the direction of the creak. As quickly as her face turned from defense, her gaze softened, lowering her arm and catching her breath. What are you doing here?

Pietro, who used his speed abilities, caught the blade with his dominant hand. He spun the blade in his hand as he took a step forward, approaching the counter. You seem to like saying those words in the same sequence. He set the blade down on the countertop, then slid it across to her, leaving lines of dust on the countertop.

Amaris eyed him, not reaching out for the blade. You seem to like to pop up in places you have zero connection to. Her tone was cold, the opposite of their encounter at the library. You better start talking.

Pietro leaned against the weathered island, crossing his arms as he looked down at Amaris. You told me you were going to Alkali.

I did, it's beautiful. Do you need directions?

Pietro laughed darkly, his eyes raking over her form. I guess some people never change. His thumbs wiggled in the little cutouts of his sleeves as he rubbed circles into his arms. Why are you acting short with me?

Amaris gritted her teeth as she watched him. None of this made any sense to her, and everything in her mind had told her to run as quickly as possible. "Let's see, the last time we spoke, not yesterday, you cursed me in Sokovian. You called me a feral animal and said I belonged in a cage as if there was an opening in the zoo. You left without telling me.

Pietro exhaled sharply, looking down after her response. He remained silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. His piercing blue eyes met her warm hazel irises, stirring something between them. I was stupid, Princessa-

Amaris brought her hands up at her face level, curling her fingers and then resting her arms at her sides. Stop calling me that. I am not a princess. I am not your princess. I am an animal. You made that clear. I've made that clear.

Pietro reached a hand out to her, however she took a step away from him, turning around to face the ruins of her childhood home. She swallowed hard, tightening her eyes as tears threatened to spill over.

I was much younger then. I don't know what it's like to have powers like you, just like you don't know what it's like to have powers like me. He continued, watching her as she reacted to him.

Amaris turned around, tears be damned as she replied. You don't think I've ever imagined what it would be like to have super speed? Or angel wings? Or literally any other power? Do you know how much sleep I have lost thinking about how I hurt you? Or how I may lose control one day and hurt somebody else? Do you know what it's like to have pain constantly ripping through your hands when you're driving, or writing, or doing literally nothing? She felt a couple of tears stain her face as she watched him take in her response. Do you know what it felt like to sit up on the rooftop and watch you willingly turn your back on us and leave the mansion because of one shitty danger room session? You didn't have the nerve to tell anybody you were leaving. I had to watch you as you walked, and then ran away.

Amaris breathed heavily, letting everything she had felt out, mostly through her words. Pietro took another step closer to her, making Amaris take another step backward. Amaris, every time he spoke her name, he would always roll the r, I should have never called you an animal. I should have never made those comments.

Her furrowed brows slowly softened, returning to their normal state as her eyes widened at his statement. Her clenched fists that threatened to bear her claws loosened up as she watched him take baby steps toward her. This wasn't the normal Pietro she had been used to, somebody who had a hot temper and was quick-witted was now remorseful and acted wounded.

Scratches heal, they leave scars that have stories to tell. He then raised his jacket and shirt sleeve revealing the scars she had left. The very faint, yet defined scars. I've carried a little bit of you with me these last four years. Every day I get to wake up to you, and every night I get to say good night to you.

Amaris shook her head, freezing in place, as he finally walked up to her. He looked down at her and lowered his sleeves, the cold nearly affecting him instantly. Pietro, why are you here?

His hands reached to cup the sides of her face. Amaris tried to pull away but was unable to, only able to look down as a final tear left her eyes. I saw you again, and I knew I couldn't let you go again.

She could feel his presence begin to close the short distance between them, and instinct kicked in.

Control your breathing, and imagine the space around you, minimal movements make for big differences.

Amaris brought her hands up, forcing his hands off of her face. She walked away from him, walking toward the torn and weathered couch. I was never yours to lose. She looked down and spotted a blanket, covered in leaves and mildew.

Princessa, I-

Creak

Get down! Amaris yelled, rushing over to him and yanking him down to the floor. She could hear voices outside of the cabin, the sound of a couple of engines cutting off, and radio chatter.

Pietro collapsed to the ground with her, unable to hear exactly what she heard. What are you doing?

Amaris rolled her eyes, peering around the corner to scan the wall opposite of them. I swear the next time you say those words, you will be tasting them.

Found them, sir, permission to engage? came a deep voice from a man. There was radio static for a brief moment before the sound of falling glass could be heard.

Hope you have your dancing shoes on. She replied before stalking her prey. She had already been in a vulnerable position, being in an environment she had not been used to. However, she would make things work. She slipped over to the couch, flipping it over as two men entered the cabin. They fired their weapons at it, sending stray feathers and stuffing around. Amaris used it as her distraction, jumping out from behind the flipped couch and attacking the men. She had disposed of them, killing them with three claws to their chest.

Another began to fire at her. Pietro made his way around the counter, using his powers to move one of the bullets around to face the gunman again. Amaris watched as he fell to the ground and Pietro faced her, giving a thumbs up. Her attention was diverted when she took a stumble forward, feeling the burning sensation of a bullet entering her back. Fuck! she grunted, taking a moment to stand up again. She turned around to face three more gunmen. Of course, it has to be guns.

The gunmen began to fire again, several of the bullets hitting Amaris and littering her jackets and shirts. She charged at them, sheathing the claws of her right hand to punch one of the men in the face. She then unsheathed the claws again, stabbing another of the men.

She felt a wisp of air as Pietro joined her in the squabble, taking the third man and tossing him off the little deck. He turned around to see Amaris killing the other two guards, the backflow of blood splashed on her face as a dark look overtook her features.

Amaris stood up, her claws retracting slowly as she breathed heavily. She turned to look at her ex-lover, seeing a mix of emotions on his face. Whether it had been a post-rush of adrenaline he had, or if he had been mortified by what he saw, she didn't have time to care. She walked over to the man who was now on the ground. She knelt beside him, lifting him up by the collar of his shirt. Who the hell are you?

The man grunted, recovering from the fall he took. Wouldn't you like to know, sweetheart?

Amaris nodded a little, her jaw dropping slightly before pulling a half smile. Oh, you think this is funny? Amaris stood up, dragging the man by his collar as she approached the edge of the cliff. He squirmed under her grip, desperately driving his heels into the dirt. She had been strong enough to pull him to the edge, flipping him over to look down at the drop below them. I'll give you another chance. You tell me who you are, or you become the wolf's next meal.

The man's cries slowly turned into laughs as he looked down at the opening below him. You'll kill me either way. Why should I tell you who I am?

Pietro walked up behind her, holding his hands out. Woah, think about this. The Professor didn't teach you this.

Amaris looked at the man, then back to Pietro. There's a lot he taught you that you forgot about. She then looked back at him, now shifting some of his weight over the side of the cliff. Why did you come here?

The man shook his head, the same demented tone vibrated through his voice. You were not the target.

Amaris was puzzled at his response. Who?

You already know who.

Amaris felt a fit of rage fill her again. She screamed, picking the man up and throwing him back toward the house. She walked back to him, unsheathing her bone claws again. Who do you work for?!

The man looked at her, catching his breath. It's too late for me. She watched as he flexed his tongue, then heard the distinct sound of something cracking in his mouth. A couple of seconds later he began to convulse before a gray-blue substance seeped from his mouth.

Amaris stood up, shocked by his actions. She watched as he suffered through the effects of the self-ingested poison, looking at him with disgust. Pietro stood at her side, looking down at the man. He was at a loss for words about what he saw her do, how quickly she acted, and how ruthlessly she defended herself.

She heard the radio static again, coming from one of the corpses. She walked over to the body, finding a radio clipped to his vest. She picked it up, pressing the button. I don't know who you are, I don't care who you are. I need answers.

An older man's voice responded to her. I am not looking for you, pet. At least, not yet.

She had been disgusted by his response. Why were they always so creepy? If you're looking for an animal, you've found one.

He chuckled before responding. I know. Each member of that team was embedded with a microchip that would relay to us their vital signs. Seems you like to take direct approaches. You should keep up the good work.

Amaris shook her head, pressing the button again. You come looking for me again like this, or anybody I care about, understand no moral code will keep you safe from me.

Trust me, Miss Howlett, we will be seeing each other. Hopefully next time, it's in person.

She dropped the radio on the man's body, looking down as it rolled right off of him. She turned to head back into the house, though she was grabbed by Pietro. He firmly held her elbow in his arm, earning him a look from the shorter woman. We should leave. They will send more men out here.

She tugged away at him, freeing her from his grasp. Not until I find something. She didn't give him any time to react as she turned away and entered the home again.

Logan had found a part of the lake that had been mostly untouched. The cold winds came rushing past him as they moved the tides of the lake. Snow crunched under his boots as he took in the scenery. There had been a dam at the lake, separating a small portion from the rest of the lake. It didn't seem to be serving a particular purpose, other than dividing the two bodies of water.

He removed the cigar from his mouth, blowing out the smoke as he figured out his next steps. He found himself wondering what he would find at the facility. If it had secretly still been active, what would he find there, and if this would resolve his problems? The Professor had promised him answers, yet Logan craved more. He wished the older man would have magically restored his memory, and figured out what wall was blocking him from being able to remember his past and who he was.

Until two weeks prior, he was Logan, The Wolverine.

Now he was a father, a cage fighter, and an X-Man.

Logan found his way to the facility entrance of the dam, the place where he had been told there was a quarry. He came across a half-broken barbed wire fence with government signs on it. The broken fences and the decaying metal and wood gates told him that the place hadn't been touched in years, maybe over a decade. Logan was met with a white wolf at the gate, the two animals staring each other down. They seemed to have come to a silent agreement as the wolf turned around and walked into the facility. Logan followed behind it, making sure to give them each enough space.

As Logan approached the gates he looked to his left, spotting a sign.

Alkali Lake Industrial Park Department of Energy and Natural Resources

Logan pushed on, sliding through the gate to finally see what was on the other side. He looked around, shocked to see ruble about him, the ruins of a building were all that remained aside from the lake.

"No", he thought. This couldn't be what Charles had seen in his mind. This wasn't the right place. There was nothing.

Logan screamed out loudly, exposing his metal claws as he slashed at a decaying column, snow shuffling around him as the debris fell. He fell to his knees, looking up at the sky, crossing his arms as they lay in his lap. It was all gone, none of it was there.

He hadn't been sure of what he was trying to find, or what he would find when he did. Yet, this felt more devastating than finding anything. Another thing had been ripped from him, something he was missing was gone again, and this angered the man. Why was this happening to him?

Amaris had shuffled through the house, moving debris so she could look under it or access parts of the cabin that had been blocked before. Pietro followed her, keeping his distance as she tore through the home. Amaris, there's nothing here.

The shorter woman grunted as she moved one of the collapsed roof beams that had blocked her from a closet. I refuse to believe that. Something has to be here. She pulled on the doorknob, opening a closet. There were clothes still on the hanger. Nothing seemed to have been touched, the roof above the clothes was still intact, and no sun had pierced through. She moved some of the hangers, finding some flannels and band t-shirts. She had pulled one flannel out, her fingers running down the sleeves. It was a brown color, somehow having a lingering pine smell to it. Hold this. Amaris extended the item out toward Pietro.

He sighed, then took the garment from her. You came here for a shirt? I would have bought one for you.

Amaris continued to look through the closet, squatting down as she found a metal safe. She pulled it up, wiping her hands over the top of it.

Alkali Lake Industrial Park Department of Energy and Natural Resources

She stood up with the case in her hand. No, we're here for this. She walked around him, heading back to the kitchen area. She avoided the bodies of the men they had killed, a strong scent of metal filling the room. Amaris set the case on the countertop, her hands now hovering over the latches.

Pietro followed her, tossing the shirt over his shoulder as he hung onto it for her. What's the matter?

She looked at the words of the case, feeling a sense of dread begin to brew in the pit of her stomach. My parents lived here... I lived here. My mother died when I was three, my father lost his memories, and I ended up in Charles' care. She exhaled a shaky breath as she finally unlatched the case. I need to know who they were.

Pietro stood next to her as she removed the top of the case. He wasn't sure how he could help her at this point, other than silently support her. He watched as her small hands began to shake as she reached for the first layer of contents.

Amaris picked up a set of photos, letting out a sound close to a muffled sob. The top picture had been of two people standing in front of the house. The man had been Logan, his arms wrapped around a woman who was holding a baby. The woman was beautiful. The black and white picture had given Amaris her first-ever glance at her mother.

She flipped to the next picture, showing Kayla asleep on the couch. The third was Logan holding an older Amaris on his shoulders in the living room. The same living room where that once little girl killed militia sent out for her.

She carefully set the pictures back in the case, now pulling out a weathered folder and a journal. She opened up the leather-bound journal and began to read the first page.

My name is James Logan Howlett. My mother was Elizabeth Howlett, my father was John Howlett. I have a brother named Victor. I was born in 1832 in a private estate to my parents some years after Victor. My wife's name is Kayla Silverfox, an ordinary person compared to me, though she is extraordinary next to me. I have a daughter, my little moon. Amaris was born in April of 1976 in Calgary. I wish to one day give her a life worth living, and I hope that she is a normal human like her mother, so she may never live a curse like mine.

Her eyes scanned over the sentences multiple times. Her mind could not comprehend what she was reading.

James Logan Howlett... born in 1832

She lowered the book on the countertop, her shoulders slumping. Pietro's quick hands rested on the small of her back and her forearm. Princessa?

Amaris looked from the journal to Pietro, her eyes filling with tears again. Tears she had been terrified to release for days. For years. My father... he's - he's over one hundred and fifty years old. Her voice came in a whisper as she verbalized what she read. His eyes widened as he searched her face, wondering how it had been possible.

Amaris turned back to the book, slowly flipping through the pages. There had been mad scribblings of different dates in time. The American Civil War, The Spanish-American War, World War One, World War Two, the Korean War, The Vietnam War. Scribbling of troop numbers, commanding officer names, division classes, and military ranks.

The pounding returned to her head as she realized that her father had been involved in almost every single major war in the northern parts of North America for nearly one hundred years. This made his night terrors and mumblings sense now. He had been a man who had fought in turmoil for one hundred years, who only remembered the last twenty-one years of his life. This isn't fair. She muttered, closing the journal, unable to read more about what had happened to him.

Pietro set a hand on hers, pleading with her. Stop. Don't do this to yourself.

Amaris shook her head, looking up at him. I have to know what happened. She persisted, now looking down at the folder. Pietro removed his hand, watching as she studied the folder.

Amaris looked at a letter that rested on top. The handwriting had been different, more wispy and thin. Her eyes widened at the greeting.

Amaris covered her mouth as she turned around, leaning against the counter for support.

My dearest Amaris,

If you are reading this, it means I am no longer here and something terrible has happened. I only ever wished to burn this letter one day and hoped you would never have to find out the truth.

I hope I get to see you grow up. I want to see what type of person you become. I already know you are as stubborn as your father, which will be my biggest challenge when raising you. I also know that you brought a new light to his eyes the night you were born. I thought I knew Logan before that night, but he surprised me and became a different kind of man as soon as his big arms wrapped around your tiny little body.

I want you to know that out of everything you learn about what has happened, my love for you has never changed. It never will. What I did was something I will never expect you to understand, but I hope one day you will forgive me for it. I only wanted to save my sister, your aunt, from the ones who made your father into what he is now. I didn't want to betray his trust, as I do love him. But my darling little honey badger, I had no choice.

I may be dead less than twenty-four hours from now, either by the hands of your father, his creator, or his brother Victor Creed. Victor is a mutant like your father and I, he goes by Sabertooth. I will do everything in my power to make sure you are well looked after when I am gone if your father can not take care of you. When you miss me, only turn to the moon. It is there I hope to go so I may look down at my beautiful child. My Amaris.

With all of the love in the world, and the deepest of apologies,

Your mother Kayla Silverfox

Amaris fell to her knees, her chest heaving. She wanted to scream, parting her lips, however, her emotions were too thick all she could let out was a gasping sound followed by silent sobs. Pietro dropped down, wrapping his arms around Amaris, and pulling her toward him. What is it?

Amaris leaned into his chest as he held her, holding the letter close to her chest as her tears fell in her lap. My-my..moth- Another sob rumbled through her chest as her brain looped the letter back again. She buried her face into his chest, the zipper of his jacket scratching her nose as she tried to burrow deeper. Pietro held her in one arm, his other brushing down her hair, cooing to her in an attempt to soothe her. Amaris tilted her head up to look at him, breaking her silence again. My mother turned my father over to whoever made him into what he is now. She betrayed him, and now he doesn't know who he is.

She continued to cry as Pietro brushed the hair out of her face, then pulled her back in, cupping the back of her neck as he held her. Let it out. I'm here.

Amaris wrapped her arms around him, trying to pull him closer. He thought she was human, and she lied to him... why would she lie to him? Pietro remained silent as Amaris tried to process her feelings, wondering how on Earth her father fell head over heels with Kayla, who seemed more than willing to trade him for the world.

The night had been the longest of Amaris' life. She collapsed into the arms of her ex as he stalked her through the Canadian Rockies. She unleashed a small portion of her animalistic side as she killed armed men coming for her and Pietro. She found some clothes that smelled of her father, found photos of her family, and found devastating news about her parents.

Amaris looked through the folder to see its remaining contents, mostly holding written communication from Kayla to Victor or to "Agent Zero", speaking about Logan and getting him to return to his brothers. Kayla had been working for months with Sabertooth to make Logan join them again. She found a plan Kayla wrote about convincing Logan, with her powers, that she had been killed by Victor. Plans that would lead Logan down a path to choose to undergo experimentation in the Weapon X program.

On the opposite side of things, she read through her father's journal, reading his stories from different wars. It was hard to believe that her father and Sabertooth, a man who had killed Amaris two weeks prior, had been the best of brothers fighting side by side in the wars. The words were sickening to her, reading about how much her father had changed for his family for him to never learn of Kayla's betrayal.

She walked out to the jeep, accessing the damage on it. The engine had been shot multiple times and various colors of fluid stained the snow below. There was no way she was going to be able to drive it back down the mountain, let alone across two countries. Pietro had run away like a scared dog the moment she left the living room area the night before, leaving her alone on the mountaintop. She looked over to the other vehicles that the militiamen brought. She knew they would be tracked by its agency, making it easy to find her. When she thought all hope was lost she turned her head to the side, finding another building on the property.

Amaris was drawn to the building next to the cabin. It seemed to be in rather good shape, as if it had been regularly checked in on from time to time. She was cautious in her approach as she walked up to it. There had previously been a large door that no longer existed, which displayed the contents of the building. Maybe it was an old garage door or a large barn door that no longer existed.

Her eyes were drawn to the center of the garage, something large was in the middle with a weathered tarp over it. She gathered a large handful of the fabric, ripping it off of the object. Her eyes widened seeing the restored 1965 El Camino the old man had told her about previously, sitting in the garage of its owner.

She laughed to herself, approaching the door and opening it up. The window had been rolled down and the keys were sitting in the bench seat. Oh, Dad. Her whisper filled the cab as she entered the driver's seat, her hands resting on the steering wheel. She looked down at the keys, picking them up as she eyed her damaged jeep sitting in front of the house.

Amaris put the keys in the ignition, switching it over. The rumble of the engine grew in decibels as she revved its engine, bringing the classic beast to life. With a new means of transportation, Amaris turned the car off after looking at its gas tank reader. The jeep had enough in it to fill up the Camino. She had a plan. Siphon the gas from the jeep, put the extra canteen of gas in the trunk bed along with everything she found, make sure everything about Xavier was out of the jeep, take the plates, and go. Once back in the city she could call Scott and get him to fix some documents to make the Camino legal with the plates and tags of the Jeep. It was perfect!

She packed up the case in the Camino along with some clothes that survived over the years and some photos she was able to save. Pietro had left in the middle of the night, needing to find a place where he could comfortably get warm. The young woman left the cabin home, regretting having ever searched for it. She would have rather lived her life without the answers had she had a thought that maybe something else had been working against her.

Then there was that group that attacked her, she had no idea who they were or who sent them. The threat that one day he wanted to was the next motivation she had to improve her skills. She wasn't a little Barbie doll to be played with when others wanted, she was going to be a force they dared not to cross.

She approached the spot where she had last met her father, seeing a figure in a leather coat sitting on the edge underneath the bag he hung up. As she cut the engine off, Amaris sighed, grabbing the case. It wasn't hers to have, it was his. She shouldn't have gone digging through the case, but she could not deny herself the anticipation of knowing its contents.

The woman trudged through the snow bank and then took a seat next to him. Logan looked over at her, taking in a deep breath. Pine, peppermint, and gunpowder. Amaris felt his stare, turning to look at him. Instead of answering the unasked question, she held the box in her hands, holding it out for him to take.

Logan looked at the box, taking it. He saw the same words as he did on the gate of the dam, hearing something shifting inside the box.

Before you open it, Amaris started, Just know that whatever you think after this, I still want to help you find the answers you're looking for.

Logan looked from her to the box. He battled with opening it himself, wondering what rabbit hole it would lead him down. Here goes nothing, right? The man opened up the case, finding it in the same order as Amaris found it. Pictures on the top of a life he didn't remember. The images did try to dig a response out of his mind, but nothing stuck.

The next thing he pulled out was the journal. He tapped his fingers on the cover of the book. There was nothing at the quarry. It's been destroyed by the weather, and I'm assuming other things.

Amaris looked from him to the lake below them, watching the water rippling around the little islands and the shores, looking down at her hands. Well, you missed all the action. She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Logan nodded. So that's why you smell like gunpowder, and you lost the jeep?

Amaris reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out five bullets. The one from my shoulder was the most painful to shed.

He looked from the bullets to the journal, his fingers pinching the cover. Hope it was worth finding this. Amaris' face grew cumbersome as she put the bullets into her pocket again, watching him open the journal. She watched his face switch emotions from curious to shocked, then to anger.

Logan's eyes scanned over the sentence, recognizing the handwriting as his own. It was cleaner though, practiced strokes with a pen. The man who wrote it clearly wanted his words to be legible as if he didn't want to forget who he was.

Logan let out the breath he held in his chest as he read over and over again the beginning paragraph. His name, his parents, his brother, his birth year.

Sabertooth? Sabertooth was his brother? In what universe would that make sense? The same man that had nearly killed him two weeks prior, threatened Ororo's life. The same man who killed the young woman next to his side, his daughter. Sabertooth's niece.

He swallowed hard as he looked down at the world. It only made sense why Sabertooth's vendetta ran strong against Logan. The man closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. This wasn't what he thought he would find.

Amaris looked up at her father, wanting to do anything for him. Unable to find the words, she did something she even thought herself was questionable. She leaned against his side, her head resting against his shoulder. People evolve over time. They change their clothes, their hair, and sometimes their personalities.

Logan opened his eyes, turning his head to look down at her. His chest heaved a couple of deep breaths before he looked back down at the box. Inside he found some more pictures and a folded-up piece of fabric. It was a canary-colored baby dress. He set the journal down, reaching for the little dress. He held it up with both of his hands, his thumbs and index fingers pinching the shoulders. His eyes scanned it, never imagining seeing something so little being able to wear it one day. He brought it up to his face, inhaling a deep smell. His eyes flashed open staring out at the lake in front of him but his mind faded back to 1976.

Memories of a baby crying could be heard. The crying turned into laughter. "Where do you think you're goin', little lady?" he asked the little baby crawling on the floor. He saw images of himself sitting on the couch as the little girl sat in his lap drinking a bottle or eating a snack. Images of him holding his little family filled his mind.

Logan lowered the garment from his face, looking over to the girl sitting by his side. She looked up at him, seeing the shock spreading across his face as he smelled the air around her. Amaris?

The woman stared at him, narrowing one eyebrow. Dad? What's the matter? She could hear his heart pounding a mile a minute.

He dropped the dress, his hands reaching out to cup her face, one thumb dragging across her cheekbone. I... I remember. His words came as a whisper as his eyes quickly examined her features. She smelled the same as she did as the baby he remembered, aside from the new baby smell. Cinnamon, fir wood, and evening primrose. His jaw quivered as his hazel eyes met hers. I remember you. Logan fell into his heart's wishes, pulling her into his hold. It had been a different type of embrace compared to the one before. Somehow, a different side of his personality awakened by the dull scent of his baby girl, now a grown adult.

Amaris's eyes were wide as Logan pulled her tightly, holding her close to his frame. She almost felt the force of his strength was going to suffocate her before long. It was then that he pulled away from her, looking her face over again. You look so much like your mother. He studied her as if it had been the first time he saw her.

Amaris bit her tongue as he spoke about Kayla, somebody she had been the most anxious to learn about. Now knowing her secrets and how it drove the family apart.

The sound of snow crunching thankfully ended those thoughts. Amaris pulled out of his hold, standing and spinning around, unsheathing her bone claws. Logan stood up as quickly as possible, discarding the metal case to the side as the metal pierced through his skin. He stood over her and she hunched down near the ground.

Men began to approach the two of them, guns pointed at them. Amaris could hear static again near her ear. Her tiny braid that was weaved by the older Blackfoot woman brushed past her ear. She listened closely as a slight hum could be heard near her ear. She gripped the lock of hair, using her bone claws to cut it away. She put a tracker on me.

Logan snarled as he eyed the team of eight men. One of them began barking orders. This can all be very easy for you. Surrender and we won't hurt you.

The mutant man shook his head. I'm tired of taking orders from men like you.Logan charged at the men, bullets beginning to fly through the air. Logan made his way to the leader of the group, piercing his chest with his metal claws, and then tossing him over the hood of the Camino.

Amaris ran towards one of the outliers as he began to follow her father. She ran up behind him, jumping on his back before stabbing him with two claws. The man fell to the ground, using the last bit of energy he had to fire his gun again. Unluckily for Amaris, it pierced through one of the tires on the Camino.

With two of the men down, the others began fighting without order. Logan used the body of the first man he killed as a shield, approaching two more and quickly taking them out with expert precision. Logan tossed the body of the man to the side as another man charged him head-on.

As the man knelt on the ground, Amaris ran up to him, using him as a ramp as she placed one boot on his back to give her a running jump at the man. She sunk both of her hands into his shoulders, using her body to her advantage as she shifted her weight around and maneuvered him to the ground. Logan had been taking care of the last three men while Amaris stabbed the man beneath her several times. If you're gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough, little girl.

The man used his weight against her, pinning her in an awkward position for her. In the flip, he wrangled one of her hands around, nearly snapping her wrist. Tell your old man Stryker says hi. The dying soldier maneuvered them one more time and a grueling snap could be heard.

Amaris looked down at her freed hand, only to see the three bone claws had been snapped off. She looked at the soldier who was slowly dying with a bloody smile as the missed three claws protruded from his shoulder and neck area. Amaris breathed rapidly, then hollered out as she gripped her wrist.

Logan had finished handling the business with the last of the troops when he turned around hearing her scream. He rushed over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. As he took a step around to face her, his eyes caught the sight of her broken claws, observing the jagged cuts of the bone. His hands reached out for hers, looking over the damage she took. Charles can fix this.

Amaris looked up at him, the pain in her face overtaking her drive to hide her emotions as she began to cry. She shook her head before speaking, He can do many things, but he can't fix my mutation. Her eyes shifted from his down to her wounded hand. Blood dried on her lip as the last little drop fell onto one of her broken claws. I'm sorry, I lead them here. Her voice came as a whisper, turning to look back at the lock of hair hanging onto a rock on the ground next to where they had been sitting. They're looking for you... and I led them to you...

Logan knelt down in front of her, shaking his head as he pulled her face to look at him. People will always be looking for me, I suppose. But you didn't do this. It ain't your fault, baby girl. He wiped away a run then ran down her cheek. We need to get out of here as fast as possible. Avoid that boy of yours, get back to the mansion.

Amaris looked up at him, pressing her eyebrows together. But Alkali and the quarry-

It's gone. What I have that's left of me is what you found in that case, and You. His voice faltered toward the end, cracking with emotion. His hazel eyes met her hazel ones in a different light from their previous interactions. Something in him came to life when he remembered her as his little baby, following him around the house and clinging to his pant legs. Dancing in her high chair as they listened to music or had been eating. Snoring softly on his chest with her mother tucked under his arm asleep at his side. I found you, and I ain't about to let you go.

Amaris leaned into his hold, holding her injured hand closely to her chest as he wrapped his arms around her long hair, doing his best to comfort his little girl. We're gonna take this nice and slow, okay? Come on. He spoke to her, his arms wrapping under her legs and behind her back, picking Amaris up into his arms. He walked over to the Camino, opened the door, and set her in the passenger seat. He closed the door, walking over to the motorcycle. As easily as he picked her up, he picked the motorcycle up, setting it into the trunk bed of the Camino. He finally walked back to the metal box, picked it up, and walked toward the car with it.

Amaris looked down at her backpack, knowing she kept the file safe from him. The last thing she wanted him to know was that his family was so traitorous to him that to know even the woman he once loved was willing to trade him for her gain felt wrong. Would he ever think the same of Amaris, who only wanted to protect him from the truth? Would she hurt him more by concealing these documents from him?

The pain of her injured claws receding back into her forearm had been more painful than the thoughts she had. As Logan entered the cab of the Camino, he looked over at Amaris, watching her knuckles and wrist heal over. He turned the engine over, shifted it into gear, and drove down the mountain. They needed to get to the Mansion as quickly as possible, for their safety, and for more answers.

Nearly three weeks had passed since the events of Logan being attacked. In that amount of time, he had become a part of a team that defended mutants while also protecting humans, learned he had a daughter, and began to remember his past. He recalled more memories from different wars he had been in with each passing day since reading his old journal. He could also faintly remember his brother's face, how they cared for each other well and had been close. Now, Victor was gone, a shell of what he used to be in Logan's memories.

Logan led the drive down the driveway of Xavier's Institute, the motorcycle roaring with the old Camino following behind him. As they approached the garage of the mansion, Logan could see students and teachers peeking through the curtains. He chuckled to himself, finding a good spot to park before turning off the engine.

He walked to Amaris as she got out of the Camino, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Well, that was a great vacation. She commented, grabbing the box of items she rescued from their home. What are you going to do next?

Logan pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders. I should speak to Charles. There has to be something we're overlooking. He walked by her side as they walked around to the main entrance of the mansion. And you?

Amaris didn't know what she should do. There were a million things on her mind, but her next steps back in the mansion seemed a million miles away. I don't know.

Logan opened the door, walking through and holding it open for her. You'll figure it out, I'm sure.

Logan! Came a giggling-sounding Rogue as she approached Logan and Amaris. She carefully wrapped her arms around his neck as he reached to hug her back. Amaris had closed the doors as the two interacted. Some other students passed by, greeting the man as they walked to their next classes.

Did you miss me, kid? He asked as they let go of each other. He chuckled when she shook her head no. How are you doing since we've been gone?

Good, really. Find anything you were looking for out there?

Logan tilted his head side to side, then nodded. Just a few things. He watched as a teenager approached Rogue, looking to be her same age, if not a year older. Who's this?

Bobby eyed him, holding his hand out. I'm Bobby. Rogue's boyfriend. He sounded very stern as if warning the older man. Logan reached out to shake his hand. Call me Iceman. Logan watched as Bobby's hand turned to ice, freezing Logan's hand.

Amaris approached them. Bobby. There are different ways to introduce yourself. She spoke, then watched as the two let go of each other's hands. Bobby nodded, remaining silent. Bobby is one of my students. Well, as long as I haven't been replaced or let go of.

A set of heels could be heard walking down the stairs next to them. It's okay, you just used all of your PTO for the year,Storm spoke, placing her hand on the rail. Look at who's come back.

Logan had looked up first, meeting Storm's gaze as she descended the stairs. He smiled, watching her every step. Yes, well, I left something here when I left. I had to come back for it.

Storm nodded, reaching for her neckline and removing the dog tags, gently handing them over. Logan smirked looking from the necklace to Storm. I wasn't talking about these, he hummed, earning him a chuckling response from Storm.

Amaris looked at Bobby and Rogue. Why don't you two go study or something? Who knows, we might have a pop quiz this week.

Bobby groaned at the sound as Rogue's gloved hand took hold of his hand and walked away from the adults. What are you going to do, Amaris? Storm asked her, using this time to avoid Logan's stare.

I'm going to find our good doctor. I need a patch job, she wiggled her fingers, looking up at her father and giving him a wink before walking away from her best friend and her father. What a wild concept.

Oh, she's downstairs. We picked somebody up yesterday. You should find her there. Storm then turned her attention back to Logan, his hand still cupping hers as she held the dog tags. We're taking the kids on a field trip tomorrow. We can always use an extra set of eyes when it comes to the students.

Logan hummed, looking down at their hands before looking at Storm again. I thought we were going out? As promised.

Oh, we are, Storm stated matter-of-factly. Tonight, seven o'clock. You pick the place.

Logan nodded as she set the necklace in his hand before walking away from him and heading down the hallway. Yes, ma'am. He spoke to himself, feeling a warm pit in his stomach. He couldn't remember what it was like to feel for another person before. He knew he deeply cared for and loved his daughter, but this was obviously a different type of feeling. What was it about the woman that made him feel so strange?

Scott appeared in the hallway, crossing his arms as he looked at Logan. Enjoy your joyride?

Logan looked at the other man, nodding. He fished for the keys out of his pocket, tossing them to Scott. It needs gas.

Scott caught the keys, and then tossed them back to Logan. Then fill her up.

Logan caught the keys, nodding slightly. After I take Storm out. He turned to walk down the hallway, hearing Scott mumble a little.

Logan walked down the hallway until he found Charles' office, hearing him on the other side. Before he could knock he could hear the older man's voice in his head. Come in Logan. Logan opened the door, adjusting his backpack as he entered. How did you fair?

We found some things, but not enough. He took in a deep breath as he watched the man in the wheelchair. Somebody had followed us for a while. Somebody who i think you know better than Amaris does.

Charles looked at him perplexed. Who was following you?

Logan took a seat on the couch as Charles gestured to him. Does the name Pietro Maximoff mean anything to you? He watched as Charles face turned white. I'd say it does.

Charles signed, looking at Logan as he spoke. Pietro was a troubled student. He was constantly in trouble with the staff here and local law enforcement. I will say he did observe better judgment when he was around Amaris.

Logan nodded, resting his forearms on his knees as he leaned in, locking his hands together. I think he is up to something.

Charles looked shocked. What do you mean by this, Logan?

He showed up where we were in Calgary. Said he was looking for his missing sister, but I could tell he was lying. Logan replied, unable to shake the feeling.

Did he say which sister, by chance? Charles asked.

Logan shook his head. No. As he watched Charles' expression change, he knew something else was wrong. Does it matter which one?

Charles moved his wheelchair so he could look out a window. He watched as children played on the basketball court. No, but Logan, there's something you should know about Pietro Maximoff. Logan watched as Charles spun his chair around to face him. Pietro's father is somebody you've already met. To know that you've had a run in with him already is concerning, but to hear he is potentially searching for a sibling ramps up this concern I have.

Logan stood up, walking over to Charles. Who?

Charles looked pained as he looked at Logan. Erik Lensherr. He choked out, thinking about the potential trouble that was brewing. Magneto.

Logan searched the Professor's face, watching as the man seemed to fall into a deep sense of dread. He followed us around, showed up in the places we went to, but he was actually following Amaris.

Charles looked up at Logan, hearing his words. I understand that she is your daughter, but I must implore you, you must keep an eye on her. If Pietro has decided to show up in place she hasn't been before, or he for the matter, she must remain guarded. She loved him, but he-

Logan could hear Charles' heart begin to quicken, a sure sign of panic or fear rising in his veins. He isn't any good, is he?

Charles shook his head, remaining silent as the two came to a silent agreement. Something was wrong, and some type of storm was brewing.

Amaris had dropped her items off in her bedroom, making her way down to the lab where she had been told she would see Jean. She had been wearing one of the band t-shirts that she recovered from the cabin home. It seemed he used to like The Rolling Stones int he seventies. It had been one of her fathers as the fabric swallowed her frame whole. All she needed was a pair of JNCO jeans and she could blend in with her students.

Jean walked around the corner, nearly walking into Amaris. The women laughed, catching their breaths before speaking. It's so nice to see you back, and in one piece! Jean spoke, looking thrilled to see the young woman back. Amaris' face fell from a happy one to a little somber one. What is it?

She held her hand up, wincing as she unsheathed her claws. I'm mostly one piece.

Jean was shocked, bringing her hands to touch the broken bones. My dear. She whispered analyzing the breaks. They were terrible, jagged and splintered.

Amaris nodded, biting her tongue as Jean touched the bone. The broken ends felt like live wires as the older woman examined them. I don't know if there is anything that can be done about it. I thought you were the best place to start.

Jean sighed a little, then holding her hands between both of hers. Let me do an exam. I'll speak with the Professor and Hank. Maybe we can do something like a prosthetic or figure out if your bones have any healing properties.

Amaris nodded, then following Jean into the Infirmary. She stood next to one of the tables as Jean began to gather some supplies.

Well I be. 'His must be heaven. Came a husky voice.

Amaris looked up, seeing a man with long red hair looking at her. She tilted her head to the side. Why? Because I'm an angel? She asked in her most dramatic flirty voice, sarcastically replying to the age old pick up line.

The man shook his head. If you're an angel, then I'm in the wrong place. See, 'dae don't fly down here wit me. It's too low for 'dem, an' their wings would burn up.

Amaris laughed a little, making the man point at her. Tell me, what's you name, Chere?

Amaris approached his bed, finally seeing his eyes. His irises were reg and the whites of his eyes were black. Amaris, Amaris Howlett.

The man grabbed her hand gently as she approached. Remy Lebeau, at your service. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, causing a warm flush to flash across her cheeks and down her neck. He looked up at her, then running his thumb over her knuckles. They call me 'da Gambit.

Amaris felt the smile creep onto her face before she could counteract it. Gambit, huh? That's a cool little codename you have there.

Remy gave a small nod of his head, looking up at the woman. I'm sure yours is somethin' to marvel at too.

Oh, no. I don't have a code name. She responded, forgetting about her hand at this point.

Give me a couple days, Gambit promises he'll give ya a nickname worthy to be chanted.

Jean cleared her throat as she entered the room. Amaris turned around quickly as Remy let go of her hand. This had certainly been the most exciting thing that has happened to him since being recovered by the X-Men.

Amaris left Gambit as he winked at her, having a funny feeling that by the end of the week he would have a different outlook on his life, and it might be due to the shy woman he met, Amaris Howlett.

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