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Title: New Mutants, Volume X: Ass-Kicking Class
Author: kanedax
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse
Rating: PG-13 for language and female undapants
Pairings: slight Bobby/Kitty and Theresa/Remy
Spoilers: X3, New Mutants, volumes I-IX
Summary: Ass Kicking Class. Nuff said.
Notes: Hey, part 10, what do you know? If you've been reading, thanks, you're what's keeping me going. If you haven't, what are you waiting for? Things are just starting to get interesting. As usual, I don't own the X-Men, Marvel Comics, or 20th Century Fox. But I do own selections from The Little Mermaid in Japanese, and who can say that, huh?
Previous Chapter (Double Trouble) / Next Chapter (Secondary)
The crisp autumn wind blew across Logan's face as he stood on the back lawn of Xavier Academy. Fall had hit Westchester County well, and the air was tinted with the smell of fallen, drying leaves. There was a chill in the air, as well, and as Logan turned to face his class, he guessed that snow may be coming sooner rather than later. At least his trusty jacket was keeping him warm, at least until the action began.
His eyes scanned the children on the lawn. He had expected a few kids to show up. Kids like Arthur Centino and Remy LeBeau, students Logan recognized as having the internal fire necessary to become the next generation of X-Men. He had also expected to see Lucas Bishop and Jimmy Cameron, the two students he was teaching in his other class, and had personally asked to attend this extracurricular activity.
What he hadn't expected, however, was to see literally every student in the Academy on hand. Theresa Cassidy, Alison Blaire, and Jubilation Lee, who in his time since returning Logan had come to regard as "the girls", sat on one side of the lawn. Although they had been asked to dress for movement, Alison was wearing a white wife-beater, a spiked dog collar, and black jeans that looked like they'd fall down if she even stood up.
Next to them sat Jimmy and Lucas, along with Artie Maddicks, Connor Jones, and Arthur Centino. Logan nodded to himself, seeing that they had all dressed as asked. Remy LeBeau leaned against under a tree off to the side.
As Logan looked up, he saw three more people approaching the group from the building: Kitty Pryde, Bobby Drake, and Peter Rasputin.
Good, he thought. If even half of what Ororo told me about Moscow last week is true, they could use a primer.
"Have a seat, kids," Logan yelled to the three, and they obliged, sitting down on the leaf-covered grass behind the rest of the students.
Logan sighed. I hate public speaking, he muttered to himself, then slowly began.
"I'm not one to speak ill of the dead," Logan started, "but I'm going to speak ill of the dead.
"In my time here at the Academy, I learned a few things about the X-Men under Charles Xavier, Scott Summers, and Jean Grey. One thing I learned is that, if you get a group of mutants together, you're one hell of a force to be reckoned with. However, I also learned that, if the X-Men, and mutants in general, have one great weakness, it's that they rely far too much on their special talents. We can hit a guy with a bolt of lightning, stop them in mid-air with our telekinetic powers, stick a wall of ice in front of them to bar their way. But we don't know how to punch a guy in the jaw.
"Magneto was one of the most powerful mutants on the planet," Logan continued. "But stick one Cure needle into him and he became a frail old man, scared for his life. In today's world a weapon exists that will render you powerless in a matter of seconds. The question is, what do you do then?
"Professor Cassidy is teaching you how to control your powers. I'm going to teach you how to fight beyond them."
He looked around the class, slowly seeing reality dawn on some of the students about just what they had gotten themselves into.
"This is going to be an intense class," he said. "You're often going to walk away sore, bruised, and maybe bloodied. It ain't Pilates. So if anyone wants to head back and do homework, now's your time to do it. However, if you want to be X-Men, successful X-Men, I suggest you take what I'm teaching."
The group was silent, but none of them moved.
"How about a demonstration?" Logan said. "Anyone here think they know karate? Tae Kwon Do? Anyone kick box?"
Arthur jumped up, a smug look on his face. "I got ya, old man," he said.
"There's a boy," Logan replied, stepping aside to let Arthur join him in front.
"Jimmy," Logan said, turning to the bald boy, "would you join us up front, too?"
Jimmy looked around apprehensively. Logan looked at Arthur, who suddenly was wearing the same look as Jimmy.
"I'm not asking you to fight," Logan said to Cameron. "Just have a seat in the front row. We're going to make sure that this is a power-free contest."
"Um," Arthur said, his voice cracking. "I think... I think I changed my mind."
Logan looked at him, his eyebrow arched. He pulled off his jacket, revealing a sleeveless shirt beneath, and faced Arthur in a fighting stance. "Looking like a little more of a long shot now, huh?"
"Maybe later," Arthur said, hastily moving back into the group. Nervous laughter accompanied his exit.
"Unfortunately," Logan continued, "In a real battle, you can't always just step down. You're in a unique position here at the Academy. A lot of humans see you as freaks of nature, and would rather see you dead. Some mutants see you as traitors to the race, and would rather see you dead. It's a fight for survival. Make sure you know how to survive."
He clapped his hands twice. "Everyone up!" he yelled. "We're gonna do some exercises to get us stretched out, then we'll pair up and I'll teach you some basic moves."
The group slowly got to their feet. To Logan's dismay, he heard a few groans out of some of them, who already seemed to be exerting themselves more than normal.
"Come on," he growled, "don't act like you've been sitting in front of the television all day."
"But we have been sitting in front of the television all day," Jones mumbled.
"Cry me a river," Logan replied. "Fifty jumping jacks, let's go!"
As the students started jumping up and down, Logan counted in time with them. His eye caught something that he had pretty much expected.
"Blaire," he said, walking up to Alison, who was jumping at half the speed of everyone else, barely moving her arms and legs.
"What?" she said shortly, a look of agitation on her face.
Logan reached down to his waist and pulled off his belt. "You need this more than I do," he replied, holding it in front of her face.
"Why?"
He looked down. "Cuz you're dazzling us with your choice of panties this morning."
She quickly stopped and looked down with him. Her baggy pants had dropped halfway to her knees, revealing a pink thong.
"Snoopy's cute," Logan said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Alison turned beet red, pulling up her jeans and grabbing Logan's belt as the rest of the group laughed.
"I don't need this shit," she muttered as she strapped the belt around her waist.
"You're right," Logan replied. "You don't. And neither do I. When I said dress for movement, I mean dress for movement. Sweats, t-shirt, sneakers, sports bra." He looked down at her again.
"Or, you know, any bra."
Alison stared at him darkly. "No one talks to me that way," she growled.
"Then allow me to be the first," Logan said back, stepping into an inch of her face. He pointed to the door. "Inside. You're wasting my time, and the students' time, with your diva shit. Come out ready to work, or don't come out at all.
"Save the rock star act for your next Maxim shoot."
The two stared each other down for a few seconds. Then Alison spun around, whipping her blond hair into Logan's face, and stormed back to the mansion. Logan turned back to the rest of the students, who had stopped and watched the scene.
"Yes?"
"She totally deserved that," Jubilee said, smirking. "She's been playing the spoiled celebrity card since she moved in."
"You should see the area around her bunk," Theresa replied. "It's like Maria Carey Goes To Camp."
Logan stared back at the two of them expressionlessly.
"Never heard of her," he mumbled. "Fifty push-ups, now!"
The class, seeing how he reacted to Alison's blow up, quickly ran back into position, dropping to the ground.
He walked over to Jimmy and Lucas, who were working next to each other. He kneeled down to them.
"How's the homework coming along?" he said quietly.
"Going... good," Lucas said between breaths.
Jimmy gulped in air. "Yeah," he said, "good."
Logan nodded. "Good to hear. You guys are making a lot of progress."
"Too... bad..." Lucas said, his arms pushing his body up and down, "this doesn't... go... towards class... credit..."
Logan stood up. "Keep up with your practices," he said, "and you'll be able to recover from a workout like this in no time.
"Okay, everyone pair up!"
The pairs were drawn pretty much as he had expected. Jubilee and Theresa practically ran to each other, and Lucas and Jimmy stayed side-by-side. Artie and Jones reluctantly matched up, as did Peter and Arthur. Bobby and Kitty laughed as they stood together, holding hands.
Logan turned to the two of them. "No funny business, alright?"
The couple nodded.
"And don't hold back," he said. "Just because you're close doesn't mean you might not have to fight someday."
The smiles fell from their faces.
"Between Jon, Jean, and Scott, two should know that allegiances can change. Sometimes by choice, sometimes not. Battle can be a hell of a thing if mind control's involved."
"Yes, sir," Kitty said quietly.
Logan smiled, patted Bobby on the shoulder, then turned to the one unpaired student.
"Looks like it's you and me, huh, Cajun?"
Remy LeBeau nodded, and stepped up squarely to face Logan.
"Lose the jacket first," Logan said, pointing to Remy's brown trench coat.
"I prefer to fight with it on," Remy said quietly.
Logan shrugged. "Have it your way," he said.
"Alright," Logan yelled. "First thing we're going to learn is a basic ready stance, followed by a proper low punch, high kick combo, as well as the proper blocks. To start, you..."
Before he could get out another word, he watched as Remy stepped back into a flawless stance, threw his fist out in a picture-perfect Tae Kwon Do punch. Logan blocked it instinctively, but was so shocked by the turn of events that he failed to block Remy's foot, which flew up and connected with his cheek. Logan reeled, feeling a cut on his cheek from the hard rubber, then turned back to face LeBeau.
"What the hell was that?"
"Low punch, high kick combo," Remy said, his voice expressionless as always. "I thought you were going to block it."
"Hm," Logan growled, the cut on his cheek closing as his healing factor kicked in. "How's the foot?"
"Not bad," LeBeau replied. "You got some armor under there, mon ami?"
Logan chuckled. "A little bit. High punch, low punch, thrust kick."
Remy reacted, performing the combo just as Logan instructed. This time Logan was ready, and blocked all three attacks. He turned to the group, whose jaws had dropped at the performance. He looked back at Remy.
"Black belt?"
Remy shook his head. "Usually got kicked out first."
"Why's that?"
"Broke too many instructors," Remy shrugged.
"High kick, low kick, spinning kick?"
Boom boom boom.
"Where'd you learn to fight?" Logan asked.
"Family practice."
"I could use an assistant. You game?"
"I'm not much for taking orders."
"Neither am I," Logan said. "I'm just teaching what I know. You could do the same."
Remy shrugged. "Why not?"
"Good."
Theresa leaned into Jubilee. "See, that's why I have the hots for him," she whispered.
Jubilee turned to her. "You think you're the only one turned on right now?" she replied.
Logan turned back to the class, opening his mouth to continue, only to see someone walking to the lawn from the mansion.
"Ah," he said, "I see Dazzler has decided to join us."
"Bite me," Alison muttered under her breath, adjusting her Adidas running clothes, which Logan guessed cost more than probably every other student's wardrobe combined.
"Now that we're all together again," Logan said, "I want to adjust the groups a bit. Blaire, hook up with Pryde. Drake, go with Jimmy. LeBeau, I want you to work with Bishop."
Logan looked around his class.
They just might be X-Men yet.
"Let's kick some ass."
The old woman nearly fell out of her chair onto the dirt in front of her house.
One second, she was sitting, peeling carrots. The next a man stood before her.
"Where are they?" the old man asked in Romani.
The old woman looked up with a mixture of fear, surprise, and frustration.
"You've come back," she responded in the same language.
"Where are they?" he repeated.
"They left," she replied. "Five years ago, closer to ten."
"What?"
"You expected them to wait forever?" the woman said, standing and wiping the dirt from her apron. "You left them in my care, nearly twenty years ago, and haven't returned once since."
"All three of them left? Where have they gone?" the old man said, his voice darkening.
"I don't know," the woman replied, her head dropping from his gaze. "And, no, only two left. The twin sister, is dead."
"No," the man breathed. The girl. He hadn't even given her a name, she and her brother were born just days before he left them in this peasant's care. But he could tell that she would be the most powerful of the three.
"A farming accident," the woman continued, her voice thickening. "The horse trampled her. She was only nine."
The old man forced himself to forget the girl. There were still two others to think of.
"Where are my other children?" he asked.
The woman shook her head, tears still dribbling from her eyes. "I do not know," she responded. "They left so many years ago, and that was the last I heard from them."
The man's brow furrowed.
"Slovakia, maybe?" she guessed. "Or possibly Russia?"
The old man nodded, then bent to kiss the old woman's cheek.
"Thank you, Marya," he whispered in her ear. "You have greatly helped the cause by raising my heirs. I should have expected them to go off and fight their own battles. Just like their father."
Marya Maximoff nodded, sniffling. "There is a steel in both of them."
"Steel, I can find," the man replied, then disappeared in a blur into the trees.
Marya barely registered his exit (Just like his son, she thought) before her mind returned once again to the child who didn't survive.
She plopped back down into the rocking chair and wiped her eyes with her apron.
"My dear Wanda," she thought. "I'm sorry you had to die."
Previous Chapter (Double Trouble) / Next Chapter (Secondary)
Title: New Mutants, Volume X: Ass-Kicking Class
Author: kanedax
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse
Rating: PG-13 for language and female undapants
Pairings: slight Bobby/Kitty and Theresa/Remy
Spoilers: X3, New Mutants, volumes I-IX
Summary: Ass Kicking Class. Nuff said.
Notes: Hey, part 10, what do you know? If you've been reading, thanks, you're what's keeping me going. If you haven't, what are you waiting for? Things are just starting to get interesting. As usual, I don't own the X-Men, Marvel Comics, or 20th Century Fox. But I do own selections from The Little Mermaid in Japanese, and who can say that, huh?
Previous Chapter (Double Trouble) / Next Chapter (Secondary)
The crisp autumn wind blew across Logan's face as he stood on the back lawn of Xavier Academy. Fall had hit Westchester County well, and the air was tinted with the smell of fallen, drying leaves. There was a chill in the air, as well, and as Logan turned to face his class, he guessed that snow may be coming sooner rather than later. At least his trusty jacket was keeping him warm, at least until the action began.
His eyes scanned the children on the lawn. He had expected a few kids to show up. Kids like Arthur Centino and Remy LeBeau, students Logan recognized as having the internal fire necessary to become the next generation of X-Men. He had also expected to see Lucas Bishop and Jimmy Cameron, the two students he was teaching in his other class, and had personally asked to attend this extracurricular activity.
What he hadn't expected, however, was to see literally every student in the Academy on hand. Theresa Cassidy, Alison Blaire, and Jubilation Lee, who in his time since returning Logan had come to regard as "the girls", sat on one side of the lawn. Although they had been asked to dress for movement, Alison was wearing a white wife-beater, a spiked dog collar, and black jeans that looked like they'd fall down if she even stood up.
Next to them sat Jimmy and Lucas, along with Artie Maddicks, Connor Jones, and Arthur Centino. Logan nodded to himself, seeing that they had all dressed as asked. Remy LeBeau leaned against under a tree off to the side.
As Logan looked up, he saw three more people approaching the group from the building: Kitty Pryde, Bobby Drake, and Peter Rasputin.
Good, he thought. If even half of what Ororo told me about Moscow last week is true, they could use a primer.
"Have a seat, kids," Logan yelled to the three, and they obliged, sitting down on the leaf-covered grass behind the rest of the students.
Logan sighed. I hate public speaking, he muttered to himself, then slowly began.
"I'm not one to speak ill of the dead," Logan started, "but I'm going to speak ill of the dead.
"In my time here at the Academy, I learned a few things about the X-Men under Charles Xavier, Scott Summers, and Jean Grey. One thing I learned is that, if you get a group of mutants together, you're one hell of a force to be reckoned with. However, I also learned that, if the X-Men, and mutants in general, have one great weakness, it's that they rely far too much on their special talents. We can hit a guy with a bolt of lightning, stop them in mid-air with our telekinetic powers, stick a wall of ice in front of them to bar their way. But we don't know how to punch a guy in the jaw.
"Magneto was one of the most powerful mutants on the planet," Logan continued. "But stick one Cure needle into him and he became a frail old man, scared for his life. In today's world a weapon exists that will render you powerless in a matter of seconds. The question is, what do you do then?
"Professor Cassidy is teaching you how to control your powers. I'm going to teach you how to fight beyond them."
He looked around the class, slowly seeing reality dawn on some of the students about just what they had gotten themselves into.
"This is going to be an intense class," he said. "You're often going to walk away sore, bruised, and maybe bloodied. It ain't Pilates. So if anyone wants to head back and do homework, now's your time to do it. However, if you want to be X-Men, successful X-Men, I suggest you take what I'm teaching."
The group was silent, but none of them moved.
"How about a demonstration?" Logan said. "Anyone here think they know karate? Tae Kwon Do? Anyone kick box?"
Arthur jumped up, a smug look on his face. "I got ya, old man," he said.
"There's a boy," Logan replied, stepping aside to let Arthur join him in front.
"Jimmy," Logan said, turning to the bald boy, "would you join us up front, too?"
Jimmy looked around apprehensively. Logan looked at Arthur, who suddenly was wearing the same look as Jimmy.
"I'm not asking you to fight," Logan said to Cameron. "Just have a seat in the front row. We're going to make sure that this is a power-free contest."
"Um," Arthur said, his voice cracking. "I think... I think I changed my mind."
Logan looked at him, his eyebrow arched. He pulled off his jacket, revealing a sleeveless shirt beneath, and faced Arthur in a fighting stance. "Looking like a little more of a long shot now, huh?"
"Maybe later," Arthur said, hastily moving back into the group. Nervous laughter accompanied his exit.
"Unfortunately," Logan continued, "In a real battle, you can't always just step down. You're in a unique position here at the Academy. A lot of humans see you as freaks of nature, and would rather see you dead. Some mutants see you as traitors to the race, and would rather see you dead. It's a fight for survival. Make sure you know how to survive."
He clapped his hands twice. "Everyone up!" he yelled. "We're gonna do some exercises to get us stretched out, then we'll pair up and I'll teach you some basic moves."
The group slowly got to their feet. To Logan's dismay, he heard a few groans out of some of them, who already seemed to be exerting themselves more than normal.
"Come on," he growled, "don't act like you've been sitting in front of the television all day."
"But we have been sitting in front of the television all day," Jones mumbled.
"Cry me a river," Logan replied. "Fifty jumping jacks, let's go!"
As the students started jumping up and down, Logan counted in time with them. His eye caught something that he had pretty much expected.
"Blaire," he said, walking up to Alison, who was jumping at half the speed of everyone else, barely moving her arms and legs.
"What?" she said shortly, a look of agitation on her face.
Logan reached down to his waist and pulled off his belt. "You need this more than I do," he replied, holding it in front of her face.
"Why?"
He looked down. "Cuz you're dazzling us with your choice of panties this morning."
She quickly stopped and looked down with him. Her baggy pants had dropped halfway to her knees, revealing a pink thong.
"Snoopy's cute," Logan said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Alison turned beet red, pulling up her jeans and grabbing Logan's belt as the rest of the group laughed.
"I don't need this shit," she muttered as she strapped the belt around her waist.
"You're right," Logan replied. "You don't. And neither do I. When I said dress for movement, I mean dress for movement. Sweats, t-shirt, sneakers, sports bra." He looked down at her again.
"Or, you know, any bra."
Alison stared at him darkly. "No one talks to me that way," she growled.
"Then allow me to be the first," Logan said back, stepping into an inch of her face. He pointed to the door. "Inside. You're wasting my time, and the students' time, with your diva shit. Come out ready to work, or don't come out at all.
"Save the rock star act for your next Maxim shoot."
The two stared each other down for a few seconds. Then Alison spun around, whipping her blond hair into Logan's face, and stormed back to the mansion. Logan turned back to the rest of the students, who had stopped and watched the scene.
"Yes?"
"She totally deserved that," Jubilee said, smirking. "She's been playing the spoiled celebrity card since she moved in."
"You should see the area around her bunk," Theresa replied. "It's like Maria Carey Goes To Camp."
Logan stared back at the two of them expressionlessly.
"Never heard of her," he mumbled. "Fifty push-ups, now!"
The class, seeing how he reacted to Alison's blow up, quickly ran back into position, dropping to the ground.
He walked over to Jimmy and Lucas, who were working next to each other. He kneeled down to them.
"How's the homework coming along?" he said quietly.
"Going... good," Lucas said between breaths.
Jimmy gulped in air. "Yeah," he said, "good."
Logan nodded. "Good to hear. You guys are making a lot of progress."
"Too... bad..." Lucas said, his arms pushing his body up and down, "this doesn't... go... towards class... credit..."
Logan stood up. "Keep up with your practices," he said, "and you'll be able to recover from a workout like this in no time.
"Okay, everyone pair up!"
The pairs were drawn pretty much as he had expected. Jubilee and Theresa practically ran to each other, and Lucas and Jimmy stayed side-by-side. Artie and Jones reluctantly matched up, as did Peter and Arthur. Bobby and Kitty laughed as they stood together, holding hands.
Logan turned to the two of them. "No funny business, alright?"
The couple nodded.
"And don't hold back," he said. "Just because you're close doesn't mean you might not have to fight someday."
The smiles fell from their faces.
"Between Jon, Jean, and Scott, two should know that allegiances can change. Sometimes by choice, sometimes not. Battle can be a hell of a thing if mind control's involved."
"Yes, sir," Kitty said quietly.
Logan smiled, patted Bobby on the shoulder, then turned to the one unpaired student.
"Looks like it's you and me, huh, Cajun?"
Remy LeBeau nodded, and stepped up squarely to face Logan.
"Lose the jacket first," Logan said, pointing to Remy's brown trench coat.
"I prefer to fight with it on," Remy said quietly.
Logan shrugged. "Have it your way," he said.
"Alright," Logan yelled. "First thing we're going to learn is a basic ready stance, followed by a proper low punch, high kick combo, as well as the proper blocks. To start, you..."
Before he could get out another word, he watched as Remy stepped back into a flawless stance, threw his fist out in a picture-perfect Tae Kwon Do punch. Logan blocked it instinctively, but was so shocked by the turn of events that he failed to block Remy's foot, which flew up and connected with his cheek. Logan reeled, feeling a cut on his cheek from the hard rubber, then turned back to face LeBeau.
"What the hell was that?"
"Low punch, high kick combo," Remy said, his voice expressionless as always. "I thought you were going to block it."
"Hm," Logan growled, the cut on his cheek closing as his healing factor kicked in. "How's the foot?"
"Not bad," LeBeau replied. "You got some armor under there, mon ami?"
Logan chuckled. "A little bit. High punch, low punch, thrust kick."
Remy reacted, performing the combo just as Logan instructed. This time Logan was ready, and blocked all three attacks. He turned to the group, whose jaws had dropped at the performance. He looked back at Remy.
"Black belt?"
Remy shook his head. "Usually got kicked out first."
"Why's that?"
"Broke too many instructors," Remy shrugged.
"High kick, low kick, spinning kick?"
Boom boom boom.
"Where'd you learn to fight?" Logan asked.
"Family practice."
"I could use an assistant. You game?"
"I'm not much for taking orders."
"Neither am I," Logan said. "I'm just teaching what I know. You could do the same."
Remy shrugged. "Why not?"
"Good."
Theresa leaned into Jubilee. "See, that's why I have the hots for him," she whispered.
Jubilee turned to her. "You think you're the only one turned on right now?" she replied.
Logan turned back to the class, opening his mouth to continue, only to see someone walking to the lawn from the mansion.
"Ah," he said, "I see Dazzler has decided to join us."
"Bite me," Alison muttered under her breath, adjusting her Adidas running clothes, which Logan guessed cost more than probably every other student's wardrobe combined.
"Now that we're all together again," Logan said, "I want to adjust the groups a bit. Blaire, hook up with Pryde. Drake, go with Jimmy. LeBeau, I want you to work with Bishop."
Logan looked around his class.
They just might be X-Men yet.
"Let's kick some ass."
The old woman nearly fell out of her chair onto the dirt in front of her house.
One second, she was sitting, peeling carrots. The next a man stood before her.
"Where are they?" the old man asked in Romani.
The old woman looked up with a mixture of fear, surprise, and frustration.
"You've come back," she responded in the same language.
"Where are they?" he repeated.
"They left," she replied. "Five years ago, closer to ten."
"What?"
"You expected them to wait forever?" the woman said, standing and wiping the dirt from her apron. "You left them in my care, nearly twenty years ago, and haven't returned once since."
"All three of them left? Where have they gone?" the old man said, his voice darkening.
"I don't know," the woman replied, her head dropping from his gaze. "And, no, only two left. The twin sister, is dead."
"No," the man breathed. The girl. He hadn't even given her a name, she and her brother were born just days before he left them in this peasant's care. But he could tell that she would be the most powerful of the three.
"A farming accident," the woman continued, her voice thickening. "The horse trampled her. She was only nine."
The old man forced himself to forget the girl. There were still two others to think of.
"Where are my other children?" he asked.
The woman shook her head, tears still dribbling from her eyes. "I do not know," she responded. "They left so many years ago, and that was the last I heard from them."
The man's brow furrowed.
"Slovakia, maybe?" she guessed. "Or possibly Russia?"
The old man nodded, then bent to kiss the old woman's cheek.
"Thank you, Marya," he whispered in her ear. "You have greatly helped the cause by raising my heirs. I should have expected them to go off and fight their own battles. Just like their father."
Marya Maximoff nodded, sniffling. "There is a steel in both of them."
"Steel, I can find," the man replied, then disappeared in a blur into the trees.
Marya barely registered his exit (Just like his son, she thought) before her mind returned once again to the child who didn't survive.
She plopped back down into the rocking chair and wiped her eyes with her apron.
"My dear Wanda," she thought. "I'm sorry you had to die."
Previous Chapter (Double Trouble) / Next Chapter (Secondary)