Dog Tags

There were two of them, engraved plates that hung from a line of small, attached metal beads. Her fingers brushed carefully across each surface, the letters and numbers that adorned them still clearly present despite the many decades and elements they had surely faced. From where she sat cross-legged against the front of the couch, Laura's stare was so focused on the objects that if she had the mutant Scott Summers possessed, her eyes would've surely burned through them.

"Hey."

Her father's unexpected greeting caused the younger mutant to jump, claws slightly extending from her fists before immediately retracting. She was still getting used to the fact that she needn't be on edge and in defense mood all the time. Laura watched as her father moved over to where she was, exhaling as he plopped down on the couch with a bottle of beer.

"Whatcha got there?" He asked, squinting slightly before recognizing his dog tags. "Where'd you find those?"

"Inside your nightstand drawer," she answered sheepishly.

"I told you not to go through my stuff," he said sternly. "We talked about this. You have your privacy and I have mine. Why were you in my room anyways?"

Laura shrugged, "I dunno…" it was very evident that she did know, but whatever reason she might have had was quickly turned to another topic of discussion when she held out the tags. "What are these?"

"Dog tags," he stated, taking them from her. "You get them to identify yourself, most commonly when you go to war."

"Why?"

He paused, momentarily forgetting that Laura had been through enough hell that her innocency had long been vanquished when it came to violence and death.

"In case something happens to you and they need to identify who you are."

"Oh." It was a quiet response, one that almost sounded slightly sorrowful. "Did you know a lot of people who had to have theirs used like that?"

"More than I'd care to think about," her father answered, eyes flickering down to the two pieces that were labeled either Logan or Wolverine. "I got these after many of the earlier wars I fought in. One was from when I was working with a team of mutants."

"The X-Men?"

"Earlier," he stated. "Much earlier."

"Oh."

A moment of silence fell upon the two, Laura saying nothing as her father's eyes remained on the two necklaces. His fingers smoothed across the worn metal, mind trying to push back the many nightmarish memories that he'd gone through wearing them. Exhaling, he lifted his gaze to meet Laura's, hand extended outwards with both dog tags resting on his palm.

"Here," he said, "You take 'em."

His daughter reached out with a tentative hand. "Really?"

"Mhm," he nodded as her small, slender fingers brushed against his calloused skin as she went to grasp them. "They aren't much use to me anymore. They deserve a good home."

"I'll take care of them," his daughter answered, voice laced with gratitude. "I'll take good care of them. Promise!"

"I know you will, Bubs," he said, the bad memories slipping away from his immediate conscious thoughts. His mind now instead focusing on the appreciative fact and affection he held towards his kid. "I know you will."