"Promises" (A One Shot)

As much as Logan loved the countryside, even he could admit that sometimes a city was just what a guy needed. It was kind of the perfect places to lose yourself. And if you wanted to lose yourself, where better to go than a city like Las Vegas? Visiting there was always a double edged sword for the feral. It was fun—who did have fun playing around and gambling a bit?—but it was also hard on the senses. Here, Logan could lose himself a bit, hide from anyone that might be after him, at the cost of losing a little bit of himself as well. The usual noises and smells and things that could get to him in the average place was so multiplied in Vegas. He had to fight not to smell or hear or see everything around him. That left him feeling like he was moving through a fog sometimes.

He could function around it, mostly. It was a matter of focusing and filtering out all the extra stimuli. He'd trained himself to do it… he wasn't sure how long ago.

Sometimes, though, he needed just a bit of a break. So he'd head to the less crowded parts of the city and just wander, a cigar in hand, and let himself relax that iron control he had over himself.

That was what he was doing tonight. It was a cooler night for Vegas, inching down towards the lower thirties. Not too bad for January. Much better than it was a few states over, up in Oregon where Logan had been before this. He was much more content to be here than out in the snow at the moment.

The night air felt good against his face. More fresh that it did closer in to the Strip. There was still the smells of cars and people, of sweat and sex and so many other things, but it was lighter here, almost easy to dismiss. Out here he also got hints of a scent that was purely desert. Something hot and completely natural. It had him smiling as he strolled down the sidewalk. One hand was stuffed down in his pocket and the other lifted his cigar to his mouth.

For quite a long time now Logan had been wandering. He wasn't sure how long—he wasn't sure of a lot of things when it came to his past. Lately, though, the wandering hadn't been as easy as it once had. He knew why, too.

Charles Xavier. Thinking of him had Logan's lip curling up. He'd helped the man out with some problems and, in return, the guy had offered Logan a spot at his 'school for mutants'. Even if Logan had been tempted by it—and he wasn't going to admit that, hell no!, he didn't need anyone—the way that his second in command had looked at Logan made it clear what he thought of the feral, and right now Logan just wasn't in the mood to go and stay somewhere he obviously wasn't going to be wanted. Usually that'd just make it more fun; he'd have a blast picking on One-Eye. But Logan just felt, tired. So damn tired. He just wanted a little bit of peace for a while. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently it was.

The sound of a scream filled the night air and immediately put Logan on alert. He froze on the sidewalk, not caring about the people across the street who were looking at him funny for it. His eyebrows furrowed down as he turned al his focus to his hearing, trying to listen enough to catch that sound. When he heard it again, he couldn't help but growl. That wasn't a pleasure scream, or a playful scream—that was a 'dear God help me they're killing me' sort of scream. Without even thinking about it he took off in the direction of the sound.

It was further away than he'd thought it was at first and he picked up speed when he realized that. Another few screams echoed in his ears, closer and closer, until even someone without enhanced hearing would've been able to catch them. Logan tossed his cigar down and strode up to the house in the middle of this suburban looking street. His claws were already out before he even reached the front door. The next scream coincided with him kicking the door in and then all hell broke loose.

What Logan saw had fury washing over him. There was a woman lying on the ground, her body beaten and bloody, and two men standing over her. One of them was holding a knife and the other had pinned her hands down. At first Logan feared rape, and that set the Wolverine inside snarling. But her clothes were mostly intact. They weren't torn in a way that suggested the people were trying to get underneath. Instead they were torn in a way that showed just what kind of marks they were inflicting. They weren't trying to rape her—they were trying to interrogate her.

He didn't pause to try and find out why. Not yet. With a loud snarl that echoed through the room, Logan launched himself towards the one closest, the one holding her down. He'd turned at the sound of Logan kicking the door and he tried to rise only he wasn't fast enough. Logan was on him in a flash and he retracted his claws so that his fist to the face was just a fist. It sent the man flying into a nearby wall. He slid down it to slump at the bottom, unconscious.

A guttural sound of pain drew Logan's attention to the woman. The guy with her, the one with the knife, had sunk his knife down into her side and was sneering up at Logan, ready to run.

The Wolverine lunged at him and the two went flying. It was a mess of tangled limbs and swung punches as they rolled through the living room, knocking into the couch and smashing the coffee table. But hitting someone whose bones are covered in adamantium isn't the smartest of plans. When one blow had the bones in the man's hand crunching, it gave Logan just enough of an opening to drive his own fist forward and up, snapping the man's chin up and sending him flying. Logan didn't bother checking him. The smell of blood was getting so much stronger and he turned to hurry over towards the woman on the floor.

One look was enough to tell him that he'd been too late. Dammit. He should've been faster, should've gotten here in time to save her!

She looked like she'd been pretty once, before they'd laid hands on her. Short blond hair, bright eyes that carried intelligence to them even now, a tall and slender body. She didn't have the curves he usually preferred on a woman but he could see where she would've once been beautiful. Now… now she was a mess of blood and bruises, broken by these two men for some reason.

The woman gave a low moan and her body shuddered a little. It drew Logan out of his thoughts and brought his focus back to her face. Back to the present. Now wasn't the time to wonder about stupid things. This woman was dying, no ambulance would get here in time. She wasn't the first person to die beside him and he knew she wouldn't be the last. He knew what to do. With a gentle hand he reached out to smooth some of her blood-soaked hair from her face. "Hey now, shh. It's all right, ma'am. You're safe now. They're not going to hurt you anymore."

Her wide eyes ran over him and then over towards the body closest to them. When she looked at him again, there was relief starting to grow there. "Dead?"

The low croak of her voice made him want to wince. It showed just how long she'd been screaming. He smiled at her instead. "Nah. But they aint getting up any time soon, I promise that."

"They want…" she paused and coughed, blood spattering over her lips. With a gentle hand Logan pulled up his sleeve and wiped it away. The gruff feral was gone in that moment leaving behind just a man who had seen too much death. He tried to shush her, but she shook her head. "No." With visible effort she firmed her voice. "They want…my baby. Don't… don't let them… get him."

Her baby. Son of a bitch. Logan knew his eyes were wide in his face. These people had been here to steal her baby?

The woman rolled her head away from him and her eyes went towards the floor. It took Logan a second to realize what she was looking at. But after a second, his eyes caught the unevenness of the boards there. Just a miniscule difference he might not have picked up on if he didn't have enhanced sight. And now that he was focusing, he could hear something else as well. Harsh breathing.

Slowly, carefully, Logan rose from the ground and moved towards that spot on the floor. It was hidden mostly by a recliner and he had to pull it out some to make enough room. Behind him, he heard the woman cough, and then he heard her call out a name. "Spencer." She coughed again and her voice got louder. "Spencer, it's all right. Someone's coming to help!" Even with as much pain as she was in, she sought to reassure her child. Maybe it wasn't a baby. Maybe it was a bit older? He wouldn't find out until he opened this.

Logan's hand was steady as he found the tiny little break in the floor that let him get a grip just enough to lift the panel. What he found—wasn't what he was expecting.

Something came flying up from the floor and right towards his face. He jerked back, swearing and flinging a hand up, but the thing—was that a bat?—flew past him and dove straight for the woman. Even as Logan was scrambling to spin around, the thing vanished down beside the curve of the woman's neck. Logan was one step forward in a hurry to protect her when he realized that she wasn't fighting against this. In fact, her face had softened and she was… was she cooing at the thing? "Shh, shh… Spencer… it's okay, baby… it's okay…"

Slowly, Logan crept forward, watching carefully as the little thing came into view. As he moved to once more kneel beside the woman, that thing lifted its head and shot him what was unmistakably a glare from a face that wasn't part of a bat. It was… holy shit. It was a dragon! This thing was a tiny little dragon, its body probably the length of Logan's forearm. The thing looked like it was brown, with hints of darker oranges and maybe even reds thrown in. It was hard to tell in this light. His snout was long, with sharp little teeth showing as he glared up at Logan. Six small spies ran over his brows and back towards his ears, three on each side, and ended with two long spikes that rose up and curled back just a bit. Two small fans, almost like tiny little wings, sat behind each ear, and it looked like his neck and back were covered in spikes or spines of some sort.

"He's my… son…" The woman's shaky voice broke through Logan's shock. He looked up at her face and saw a hint of clarity there; a clarity he knew only came when time was short. She was using up the last of her energy to tell him this. "They s-saw him… flying. Wanted to… to capture him. Sell him. P-please… don't… don't let them get him…"

Oh, hell. She was asking him to protect her son. To take him and care for him. That was a hell of a promise to make. Logan had promised things to friends and soldiers before, to get a message to family or to do one last thing for them…but to take on a child? Yet, as he watched her face, as he saw how hard she was fighting to stay here and stay alive just so she could ask him this, how could he say anything else? There was no doubt in his mind once she said 'son' that this kid was a mutant. He needed help. He needed protection. That was something Logan could do. He reached out and caught her hand in his, giving her his best smile. "I'll watch over your boy, ma'am. I won't let them have him. You have my word on that."

It was like all the tension drained out of her. "Thank you."

The little dragon against her made a low, painful sort of whine, and she turned her face towards him. She didn't say anything, at least not that Logan could tell, but the dragon gave another whine and then slowly, carefully, lifted himself up. It was a heartbreaking scene to watch as the dragon pressed its face up against hers. It stayed there as the woman took in another breath, and as she shuddered it out. Then she was still.

Logan's heart broke a little at the painful cry the dragon gave. He didn't move, didn't break away from his mother, just stayed there pressed against her. As Logan shifted, he saw the moisture dripping down onto her cheek and knew the boy was crying. It broke him a little more. Especially since he knew they needed to get out of there. "Hey, kid." With one hand he reached out, only to be stopped short by those sharp teeth snapping at him. Logan drew that hand back and held his palm out towards the kid. "Woah there, pup. I aint trying to hurt you." He slowly lowered his hand down once more, keeping his eyes fixed on that golden eye staring up at him. "I can hear sirens in the distance and I'm betting someone called the cops on what they heard. We need to get outta here before that happens or everything your Mom did to protect you is gonna count for shit. We need to be long gone by the time the cops get here or these guys wake up." He saw the kid, Spencer, hesitate, and he pressed his advantage, hating that he had to do it but knowing they needed to go. "I promised your Mom I'd protect you, Spencer ,and I meant it. But to do that we need to go, now. Or she'll have died for nothing."

Those last words were the ones that broke through the kid's tough exterior. Logan saw the flinch and wished he hadn't had to do that. He had no idea how old this kid really was. Old enough to understand, though. Old enough for his mutation to have kicked in, and old enough for those eyes to have quite a bit of intelligence as they watched him.

This time when Logan reached out the kid didn't stop him. He actually hopped up onto Logan's hand, moving very carefully. It wasn't hard to figure out why. His feet had tiny little claws on the end of each toe that Logan would bet were pretty sharp. They seemed to grip rather well when Spencer climbed up his sleeve to settle near his collar.

Once he was sure the kid was secure, and the cops were getting too damn close, Logan made his way out of the back of the house. This wasn't his first time sneaking away from somewhere. It was easy to do in the dark like this. In just minutes, they were away from the house.

They'd gotten only a few blocks when Logan realized something. Walking around with a dragon perched on his shoulder was a stupid idea. He needed to be discreet. Which also meant going back to his own hotel room wasn't smart, either. They'd have to go in, grab his bag, and go find somewhere else, just in case those goons got free and knew enough to come find him.

There was only one way that Logan could see to get the kid inside without being seen. Blessing inside pockets, he tilted his head as best he could to look over at Spencer without unseating him. "You aint exactly subtle up there, pup. If we wanna get through this without anyone seeing ya, we might wanna try to hide ya a little more. Why don't you climb on down and curl up in the inside pocket of my jacket? Its wool, nice and soft."

After a brief pause the kid started to climb down Logan's arm. Logan lifted that arm, bringing his hand in near the pocket and making a perfect path for Spencer to follow. He didn't exactly fit perfectly as he put himself inside. His wings were too big to compact down in there and his body too long. His tail—which looked like it was as long as the rest of him, maybe even more, hung out of the pocket as well. When Logan drew his jacket back in there was a definite bulge there, but he could hide that.

The kid curled up as best as he could in Logan's pocket and then, he didn't move. He didn't move as Logan got into his hotel room, or as he gathered his stuff, or even as Logan explained where they were going. He didn't move when they set out once more, or as Logan checked them in to their new motel. It worried the feral more than he could say.

It wasn't until Logan had them safely in their new room that he was free to check on the kid. He pulled his jacket off carefully and set it down on the bed. It allowed plenty of space for Spencer to crawl out. The kid did, after only a brief pause, but just enough that he could get his body free from the pocket. Then he stopped, his body still trying to curl in on itself, and Logan's heart throbbed. He recognized grief when he saw it. This poor kid had lost everything tonight. He had every right in the world to grieve. "I'm so sorry, kid. I'm so damn sorry I didn't get there faster."

There was a second where Spencer was completely still. Then… Logan watched in shock as the form of the dragon seemed to grow at a rapid pace, colors shifting and changing, until suddenly it wasn't a dragon sitting on the bed—it was a very naked young boy.

Immediately Logan grabbed one of the extra blankets on the table nearby and he shook it out, pulling it around the kid. Spencer caught it with a pale, slander hand, tucking it around his body. He sat cross legged on the bed, body curled in to the blanket, and his head bowed down. His hair was a nest of brown curls, just slightly shaggy, and the brief glimpse Logan had of his face had showed wide eyes that dominated a slender, pale face. The eyes were worth a second look of their own. They were the same golden dragon eyes, with the thin slit for a pupil and no sclera—white part of the eye—at all.

How on earth had this kid developed powers already? He looked no more than ten, maybe eleven!

"I'm twelve." The boy said, not even bothering to look up. "I just look small for my age."

Logan stood up a little straighter. "You reading my mind?"

"I wasn't trying to. I don't always have the best control yet." A soft little sniffle escaped him and the boy drew in a little tighter. "I should've had more control."

There was so much pain in those words. Logan remembered what the woman had said, how those bastards saw Spencer flying, and he knew what was going through that kid's head at the moment. This was so much more than Logan knew how to deal with. But there was no one else here. Just him. Hopefully that'd be enough. Grabbing hold of a chair, he brought it over and spun it around backwards before straddling it, his arms folding to rest on the top of the back. Then he lowered his head down to better see Spencer's face. "This wasn't your fault, pup. I know it feels like it, but it wasn't."

Spencer's head shot up and his eyes were shining with tears. "It was!" His chin lifted in a stubborn gesture and pain almost radiated off him. "I knew better than to go out flying, but it felt so good! And they saw me. They saw me and followed me home. If I'd just listened, or if I'd stayed small, they never would've seen me!"

"Stayed small?"

The kid slumped down a little. He brought up one edge of the blanket to wipe at his face. "I… I can shrink my other self down to that size, but my real dragon is bigger. Dog-sized. It seems to grow as I do."

That was interesting. Not just a shapeshifter, but able to shrink that down. That would come in handy. There was some telepathy mixed in there as well, obviously. Logan tilted his head and watched Spencer. For twelve, the kid was handling this a whole lot better than one would expect. He was crying, sure, and hurt, but he wasn't falling apart. He just looked… broken. It had Logan softening his tone a little. "Why don't you go on in and clean up, pup? I'm sure I can find one of my shirts small enough for you to sleep in. We'll get some rest and then tomorrow, we'll try and figure things out, all right?

"Why are you helping me?" Spencer whispered.

Logan pushed up from his chair, nudging it back towards the table, and then he moved over to crouch down in front of Spencer. He reached up, laying one hand on the kid's blanket covered shoulder. "I made a promise to your Mom, Spencer, and it's one I plan on keeping. No matter what else happens, you got me now, all right? An I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anything happen to you."

Those watery eyes lifted to his and they tugged on Logan's heart again .This kid was already worming his way in there and Logan had barely known him a night yet. "What if they come back?" he whispered.

Logan smiled, sharp and hard. "Then they'll find I aint exactly easy to kill. I just get right back up, even more pissed off than before." He gave Spencer's shoulder a soft squeeze. "There's nothing that's gonna hurt you while I'm here. Now, go on and go get a shower, pup. There's not much of night left and you need some sleep."

He watched as the kid rose on shaky legs from the bed and made his way, blanket and all, towards the bathroom. Only when he was inside did Logan finally let himself slump down and sigh. What the hell had he gotten himself into here? He didn't know anything about taking care of some twelve year old kid! Especially one that was as traumatized as this one was!

There was no way he was going to be able to walk way, though. He'd made a promise to the woman and he'd made a promise just now to the boy—and Logan kept his promises. He'd keep the kid safe. No matter what it took.

Apparently his days of traveling alone were over. Somehow that thought didn't seem that bad. As Logan pushed to his feet, he smiled a little. He was going to have to stop by a store tomorrow and pick up a few things for the kid. For both sides of him, really. Then they were going to have to get far away from here. Where, he wasn't sure. They could figure that out together.

Story Two to be added soon!