Nobody really rests in Eden. We're always worrying about the next wave of mutants. And what the Weapon X project is coming up with next. Sometimes some of us forget and can pretend that all of this is normal. Just like Charles Xavier and Magneto had dreamed of at one point. And what my father had spent his whole life running from.

I sat in the windowsill, looking down on the small town that had been built beyond the border in Canada. Things were less stressful here. And the government wasn't trying to kill us. But the Reavers still find us sometimes. We're always ready for them, though. A small team of us have made it our duty to keep the walls of this place standing for as long as we can. Hopefully forever.

Realistically, I know that that's probably not possible. Xavier tried. And failed. So did Magneto. All of the heroes and villains we've looked up to have come and gone. I don't think any of the X-Men are alive any more. Every so often, someone will be convinced that they see my father. He's like Elvis. People just can't accept that he died. Sometimes I find myself hoping that he's really alive. That his body just took longer than normal to heal. But I know that that's not the case. I was holding him when he died. You can't come back from death any more. That died with Jean Grey. We still hear rumors of her being alive. And it might be her face and her body, but I doubt that Jean still exists any more. If she did, she'd be here. Protecting young mutants was always one thing she strived for.

"There you are," Rebecca sighed, interrupting my thoughts. I looked away from the window back to my slender blonde friend. "You're supposed to be sleeping, you know. You aren't on watch right now."

"I was just thinking," I shrugged, returning my attention to the new group of young mutants that had made it here. They looked terrified and shaken. I wished, again, that I could be one of the runners that helped bring them here. That was deemed too dangerous by the people running the camp, however. They were very firmly in favor of being a safe haven as long as refugees could make it here alive. If not, it wasn't their problem. I found myself thinking of James Howlett again. My father. We wouldn't have made it here without him. We would have been rounded up and killed without remorse. I wonder who their James was. Who they lost to make it here.

"Bad day, huh?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Rictor sent me to find you, actually." I turned my full attention to her. She smirked slightly, amused at how that had quickly changed my mood. "He wants to take you with him on the next run."

I sat up a little straighter. "Are you serious?"

"Very. You, Bobby, Richelle, and I were chosen to go with him."

"That's a decent line-up," I said thoughtfully. Rebecca has the elemental power of frost. Bobby's is electricity. Rictor can manipulate rocks or anything rock-like-such as cement. Richelle can control plants. And I'm impervious to damage for the most part. I instantaneously heal. This also allows me to use the bones in my hands and feet as "claws," which the scientists at Transigen so graciously coated in adamantium. Just like Wolverine.

"We can all handle ourselves. Now, why don't you get some sleep? You have watch in like five hours. We're running our first mission in a few days. It doesn't do anybody any good to have you taking on too much and running on too little."

"I know, I know."

"Good." She stood with a smile and left my room, closing the door behind her. I stood, stretched, and realized just how tired I actually was. Maybe I did actually need some sleep.

As I laid down on my bed, I remembered the last night I saw Xavier. I had refused to sleep on the bed with him. I hadn't wanted to disturb him. He had looked so fragile as Logan carried him up the stairs. I was afraid he might break if I had a nightmare and lashed out. That was something I couldn't have lived with. He had shown me kindness. Just like Gabriella. If only I had realized that X-24 wasn't Logan. I should have smelled it. He was healthy. Father wasn't. It should have been easy to detect. But I was so tired. And I felt so safe there in that house with Nate's iPod.

As soon as I smelled the blood, I screamed. I shouldn't have screamed. Nate came over to help, just armed with a baseball bat. X-24 may have looked like Dad, but he wasn't my father at all. He was just pure, undiluted rage. His only purpose was to destroy everything that stood in his way-or everything that Transigen told him stood in his way. It was like he didn't have a soul. That was a thing that other people have always said about clones that I never understood until that night. Watching him murder a broken, dying man without even flinching is one of the worst things that I've ever witnessed. He would never know what it was like living with a killing. He would never know how much it branded you.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them. I hadn't understood what Dad meant then. I had thought that I would be fine, that it wouldn't bother me. But all of those men that I killed, I killed them for survival. For my family and I. For Logan. They had probably had families, too. They were never going to go back home. They could never make better lives for themselves. Or make themselves into better people.

"Don't be what they made you."

It was the last thing Dad ever said to me. And I think about that every day. It's so easy to be what everybody wants you to be. It's much harder to be what you want to be. I know he struggled with that. In the end, Wolverine always did the right thing. But James was never sure that it was right. I understand that now. I didn't when I had met him. I wish that we had had more time together. But I feel closer to him now than I did when he died. I understand him more.

And I want to make him proud of me.

My slender fingers wrapped around his dog tags and ring that I always wore around my neck. I took them from his body when we were burying him. Something to remember him by. To remember that part of myself. I would need it when we leave Eden. It's been almost eight years since we escaped. I'm sure that the world has changed a lot since then. And probably not in the way that any of us would want.

I fell asleep with my knees up to my chest and my thumb running over Logan's name. I won't be what they made me, but I can be what you made me.