Author`s note:

- Firstly and most importantly, English is not my native language or even my second one, so you'll understand this is clearly kinda difficult. Therefore my undying and boundless gratitude belongs to LJ FeroxArgentea (Cat), this story's beta;

- I like the movie. That's obvious, actually, 'cos why would I writing this fic if I didn't? But I still wanna say it out loud. Good movie, much better than some of the usual blockbuster crap;

- I don't own Legion, naturally, but no copyright infringement is intended. I don't own the movie's characters. Isn't that obvious? Not for profit (though it's interesting to consider what profit there could actually be). Just having a little fun;

- I also made a Legion music video, in which I tried to show my impressions of this movie. If anybody's interested, the link is in my profile;

- Paul Bettany's Michael may be the most important reason I'm doing this - I just can`t let him go :)

Intelligo ut credam *

*Understand to believe (lat)

1. Home

The black SUV was moving through the desert night on a road half-covered with sand, making very little noise. It was dark, as dark as only desert could be. The car's headlamps were almost the only source of light, but there was also moonlight, dim and gloomy, making everything around look slightly unreal.

On the back seat of the SUV slept a man and a woman, middle-aged, early forties. The woman's head lay on the man's chest, and his arm was around her shoulders. Even as he slept, he held her gently but tightly.

The driver was a young woman, later twenties perhaps… or at least that's what you might have thought, before you looked closer. No lines on the face, perfect skin. But her eyes… those eyes could not belong to someone that young. Hazel is supposed to be warm, isn't it? These were hazel and they were as cold as ice. So was her face: cold and focused. Her hair was blonde-brown, with silvery sparks in the moonlight, a little bit longer than her shoulders. Dressed in black, she looked like a shadow inside the SUV. Driving with her right hand only, and holding a cigarette in her left, she was obviously trying to direct the smoke out of the half-open window, away from the passenger in the front seat.

It was a young man, nineteen or twenty, certainly no older. In the dim light from the car's control panel could be seen big blue eyes, a fresh face and dark blond hair. His clothes were dark as well.

"I hate when you do that," he said suddenly in a low voice. His head tipped towards her cigarette.

"Yeah, well… get over it," she answered, and inhaled.

This was obviously not the first time they'd had this conversation.

"So… where do we go?" He had obviously decided to change the subject.

"Somewhere safe," she shrugged, as if it was a strange question.

"Nowhere is safe. You taught me so, remember?" There was a little push in his voice.

"It's safe, as much as it could be safe at all." She sounded like she was starting to become annoyed, he realized.

And then there was silence, broken only by the sound of sleepy breathing from the back seat and the engine's soft, low rumble. The man's hands moved in his lap, followed by a particular noise – click.

"I also taught you not to play with guns, remember?" she said sharply, not bothering to change her stance.

"Just checking," he replied in an absent-minded tone, and then suddenly added with fervor, "Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad." This time she turned her face and gave him a "you're so wrong" look. But first she dropped her cigarette butt out of the window. The red flash of light disappeared in the dark within a moment. "I've being thinking."

"What about?" He was definitely glad to have some more small talk.

"Always the same: how we'll survive the next 24 hours, Cain." She did not appreciate small talk, for sure.

About forty minutes later the SUV pulled over. There was some shapeless delineation within a couple of yards of the car.

The guy glanced at the woman with some surprise. "Are we done already?"

She nodded in agreement.

"So, where're we now?"

"In the middle of the nowhere," she smirked, then added much louder, "Charlie, Jeep, wakey-wakey."

They woke up immediately, the man sitting up with his palm on the rifle by his left foot, and the woman holding a Taurus in her right hand.

"It's okay, no need to worry, we just arrived." The driver's voice was suddenly soft and reassuring. "Now we'll wait."

"What is this place, El?" The older woman had an unexpectedly young voice.

In answer, the driver turned the car's headlights up so they could see everything clearly. The car was parked near the little-known Paradise Falls, or at least what was left of it. There were a lot of crashed and burned cars around the ruins of a cafeteria. It was as if a bomb blew up at Moll's Parking on December 23rd with no-one left to clean up the mess.

"Home, sweet home." There was anything but joy in Jeep's voice.