Notes: Don't own X23 or Wolverine.
A'ight, so this is a little (okay a lot) different from what I normally write. It's just a little bleh oneshotto get me back in to the writing mood. It's not that good and I think I messed up on the tencesa lot. Hopefully it's not to bad and the characters aren't too out of character. I haven't really read and x23 or Logan ficsso... I'm just goin' on a wing here. Well in any case, enjoy!

It was dark and still just like it is every night. The only movement was on the grounds of the school, a light wind that played though the tall tress and grass. Dense clouds hung Low in the sky, obscuring the moon. Long patches of light were cast on the grounds from the few still turned on lights, shining from bedroom windows. Most people were asleep by now, but not me.

Sleep only brought about bad dreams. Dreams about my past, things I'd rather not think about. Things that haunt me to this day, even in my waking hours. White rooms with no windows, all alone, terrifying training sessions with monsters so lifelike I swear that they were real. I was taught to not have fear, or to feel. But I do anyway; it's not something that one can not turn off entirely. You can push it away and ignore it, but it's still there, locked away somewhere hard to find, but not lost.

I'm not even sure what it is, maybe it's the feeling that one day everything will be alright. Or that someday I'll have a real family. Like the kids I used to watch in the park, the kids that I watched and learn to hate.

I decided a long ago that I didn't care anymore. Why dwell on what I do not and can not have? There is only one feeling that has ever come easily to me. Hate is one. Hate that which is fed by a burning rage in my chest that can't be extinguished.

I watch the fountain down below me for a while. The way the water arcs gracefully then falls back in to the pool is almost hypnotic. My eyes move to the forest, the very one that I used to hide in.

From there I'd sometimes find a good spot to sit, and just watch the students. They really seem happy. It only makes me hate them more. They are so carefree and unaware of the world around the, the younger ones at least. They know that outside of school they are shunned and ridiculed, but they don't really understand as I do.

Even so, I have come to get along with most of the students in the school. They treat me with kindness and better yet, respect. I won't go as far to say that I am friends with any of them, but at least we are all on good term, better than I had hoped for.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath of the crisp air. It is cold and stings my nose. That's when I smell it. I smell him. Looking down, I can just make Wolverine out. Taking a midnight stroll, or rather a midnight skulk. Possibly to make sure that all the school's security systems are working to their full capacity. Not like it really matters. I broke in several times, people more skilled than I could do it in a heart beat.

He must feel my eyes on him because a second later he looks up back at me. As I thought, he doesn't look surprised to see me on my balcony. It is near one AM but I am not tired. I don't want to sleep. I don't want to dream.

Wolverine looks away and disappears into the main entrance of the school. I know that he is coming up to see me and ask why I am not asleep. His attempts to talk to me won't work. He means well, but I don't want to let him in. Every time I think of him, the rage in my chest rises again.

I hate him

It's impossible to know why he feels obligated to come up and try to make me feel more at home. Ho matter how many times he tells me that it just takes getting used to and that with time I'll come to love it here, I'll never believe him. I don't want to believe him or listen to anything he has to say.

I hate him.

Scowling I turn back into my room. I sleep alone with no roommate. A think I am not unfamiliar with. I've only been alone. Even here in a school filled with students and teachers, I am still alone. Maybe it's better that way. No one can hurt you if you're alone.

By the time I finally break out of my train of thought and reach my bed, I hear Wolverine knock on the door. I want him to go away. Unfortunately, there is nothing that I can to do make him do so. At first I tried to just ignore him, but it's provento be utterly ineffective. If anything it just gives him more incentive. The Wolverine is not one to be ignored.

He waits a few moments before opening the door. At least someone still has a little respect left for my privacy. God knows the clowns at HYDRA didn't.

"Hey Kid"

The anger flares but I keep it in check. I hate it when he calls me 'kid'. I am by no means a child. Scowling I look away from the man whose DNA I posses.

Deep down I know that it's not really his fault. His DNA was given to me and he knew nothing about it. He had no control over what happened to me. Maybe that's why he feels like he has to make it up to me somehow. Even if I do hate him, he's the closest thing to family I've got.

He lingers in the door way, even though he knows I want him to leave. The stocky figure casts a long shadow on the floor. The light in the hall is bright, but it only takes me a moment for my eyes to adjust.

"Do you ever sleep?" Wolverine questions gruffly.

"Do you?" I shoot back at him.

It's almost a smile, more like a smirk on his face as he answers. "You'll fall behind the others if you don't get some sleep Kid."

I narrow my eyes. He did it again. "I'm not going to fall behind. They need to catch up."

"Actually" Wolverine says in that smart-ass way of his, "I think you're at the bottom of the heap." I know he's trying to infuriate me on purpose.

I don't rise to his bate. It's completely absurd. There is no way that I could be behind any of these fools, especially the short one.

My silence is an invitation for Wolverine to go on. He does so.

"You're tough kid."

My jaw tightens.

"Quick, silent and deadly as all get out, but ya know nothing about teamwork."

"I-"

"Work alone? I know." Wolverine interrupts me before I can finish my sentence. "But" he continues, "You're in Chuck's house now. This means ya play by his rules. You agreed to this when I found you."

The fury rages freely through me. He swore to never talk about that. "I know." I growl though gritted teeth.

It may just be the light, but his expression seemed to let up just a little. His face seemed less lined. It's odd to watch him like this. He moves awkwardly and looks uncomfortable, like he's out of place. Walking across the carpet he pulls out my desk chair and sits down at it.

For a moment he just stares at me. Determined not to show weakness I stare back. Wolverine clears his throat, still looking like he's trekking through unfamiliar ground.

"Look-kid,"

"It's Laura." I say with frustration, not standing to be called 'kid' one more time.

I've never told him my name before… Sometimes I forget I even have a name. When you've been alone for so long, names become irrelevant. Sadly, it's the only thing I have. My name is the only thing that defines me, and sets me apart from the twenty-one failures before me, as well as the man sitting in front of me. It proves that I am different from him. I am better.

"Laura?"

I nod mutely and finally break eye contact. Eyes can betray you, he knows too much already.

He continues "I know it's hard to adjust to a place like this. But believe me, we want to help ya."

Again, the rage starts to build. He doesn't know me. He doesn't understand.

The chair he's sitting on creeks a little and I look up. He's leaning towards me, his face half in shadow, half illuminated by the hall light. I just frown and watch him. I can see in his eyes a little flicker of understanding.

It occurs to me that the reason why he wants to talk to me, even help me, is the same reason why no matter how much I want to and no matter how the anger within me wants to stick him through his stupid gut… I cannot:

He is the only family that I have.

The words that come from his mouth don't even register in my head while he speaks. It's probably something about teamwork training or something of that nature so even if I had been able to understand, I would not have cared. I don't want to hear what he has to say, I don't care, I hate him but-he's all that I have. Maybe he feels the same way. I'm not going to ask.

I finally realize that he's stopped talking and is waiting for me to say something. He should know better than that. With nothing to say, I stay silent.

The fatigue left by the countless sleepless nights is slowly closing in on me, I am tired and can't think as clearly as I would like. It has been a long time since I last had a good night sleep. In fact, it was the very night that I had tried to kill the man in front of me. To make him pay for what had happened to me, but of course, it was not really his fault.

Wolverine was too strong and quick for me. To smart and experienced, blocking my advances as if it were child's play. Frustrated and agonized, confused and just so tired I couldn't take it any longer.

For the first time in my meaningless excuse for a life, I threw my arms around someone and broke down, clinging to him as if he were a lifeline in a raging ocean. I cried that night. I cried and even though I could smell the surprise on him, Wolverine did not push me away, even if it was clear that he wanted to at first. Perhaps he thought it was a trick I didn't blame him. After all I had been trying to kill him not ten seconds ago. However, something held him back from his first thoughts of suspicion.

After a moment of hesitation, Wolverine had put a strong arm around me. It was such a strange concept to me. Being enclosed in his arms, but not trapped. Being held but not with the usual roughness I was used to. For those few moments I felt… safe.

Safe is what I want to feel right now. Knowing that someone, even the person I hate the most, may have some idea of what is going through my head. It is impossible. I let myself go one time; I can not do it again. Weakness is something I can not tolerate and not dare to show to anyone, especially not him. Not again.

I jump when I feel a strong hand on my shoulder. Claws a moment away from extending out, I realize that it's just Wolverine. I relax fractionally, but I do not let my guard down.

Sometimes I think Wolverine is just as much as a telepathas Xavier or Grey for he always seems to be able to read me like a book. With out speaking he pulls me to his chest and puts both arms around me in a fatherly embrace.

"You know Laura," He says to me, still holding me. "It's real hard to help ya when you keep acting so goddamn stubborn."

I can tell that he is smirking. Despite his complaining, he sounds proud.

"I wonder where I got that from." I say dryly.

He chuckles and pats the top of my head like a cat. Somehow, I don't mind. Really, I am tired. My eyes close, my breathing slows down. Wolverine is silent and so am I what seems to be a long time. At long last, if even for a moment, I feel safe.