A/N An update! Imagine that. If anyone is left, thanks for sticking around. I promise that I'm going to finish this story. As always, reviews are welcome! Thanks for reading!

Logan shook his head, "You know what, never mind." His shoulders slumped slightly and his eyes held the all to familiar look of betrayal. "You're just gonna keep hold our secrets over my head, aren't you."

I wanted to respond, but no flippant reply came to mind. I stepped out of the doorway instead, hoping he would see the request in my eyes. Logan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"I didn't know you swung that way." His tone was scathing, just a little to sharp. He was on the defensive.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "You want to know the story. I'm going to tell you."

He took a hesitant step forward, hesitating ever so slightly on the threshold. I gave him time, plenty of time, to claim a space in the room before I followed him. The door eased shut, a hair's breath away from latching. I didn't push it shut. This way there was an escape for him. And for me, if it came to that. Logan stumped over to the desk, swinging the chair around to face me, eyebrows raised skeptically.

I leaned against the wall, picking idly at my fingernails while I searched for a good way to begin. I took several deep breaths, the knot in my gut tightening when Jimmy started to fidget. He didn't say anything though, and he didn't try to leave. I flicked on the light, more to give myself another few seconds of something to do than for a desire for illumination.

I had promised myself, when I went to the mansion, that I would tell him the truth. That I would fix everything that was broken and start fresh. I had convinced myself that I had changed. Changed for the better. But I hadn't. I was still the same man that was selfish enough to watch his own brother walk away. The man who was willing to do anything to hurt him—the man willing to rip away the woman who held his brother's heart. Selfish. Cruel. Ruthless.

I sucked in a final breath, "We were brothers." My voice caught on the next words, and I worked my tongue around in my mouth. "You knew that already though."

Logan snorted, "That's damn right. If you aren't gonna tell me anything new than I'm leaving." He started to stand, the chair creaking slightly.

"No, wait." I grimaced at the pleading in my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was look weak in front of this man.

We stood, side by side, at the edge of town. Jimmy was rubbing his scruffy beard, eyes wide and shocked.

"You killed him."

I glanced down at the man, his head hanging on by a greasy thread of skin. "What other choice did I have? He would have killed us if he had known. You know that." I kicked his head away from his body, watched it roll down the hill. "I did it for you."

"You always say that!" Jimmy inched farther into the woods, feet leaving mudding tracks in the soft earth. It smelled like spring, like fresh earth and thawing shit. Like rot and grime blood. Always like blood. "When are we going to be done with the killing? When are we gonna be safe?"

I gritted my teeth. "We're never going to be safe, brother. We're different and they're afraid of us."

"They wouldn't be afraid if we didn't scare them." He gestured wildly. "We could try to be normal."

I shook my head. "We've tried! God knows I've tried. You go right ahead and try to explain to these nice people why papa bear here doesn't have a head. You try to explain to them why you don't get any older. Why I look like this!" I snarled, turning to slash at a tree trunk in frustration. "Maybe you can blend in but I can't."

"You could if you tried!" Jimmy's hands reached out for me.

I slapped them away, "You think I don't? The only thing we're ever going to be good at is killing. That's what we were born to do. That's what we'll do until the end of fucking time." I threw up my hands. "The only time we're ever normal is when there's a war."

"We were brothers, but that was a long time ago. We lived here. No…you lived here. I lived in the shack in the woods with my father." I paused, listening for any noise in the hallway. There was no need for anyone else to hear this.

"This was your room. Your mother was a good woman. Kind. Generous. Weak." I stared at him, "Do I need to continue?"

Logan's jaw tightened, his lips shifting.

"You don't even remember the woman. Don't get to defensive." I held my hands up in a silent apology. Logan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Settling in for the long haul.

"You were a sickly child. I did housework. Cleaned the stables, swept the fireplaces, tended the gardens. All that Cinderella shit."

"You lived with your father?" Logan stared at me. Hard. "You said we were brothers."

I sighed, "I'm getting to that part, whelp." I met his eyes until he looked away, and then began again. "Years passed. You grew up. Our father, you didn't know he was yours, came to lay with your slut of a mother one night. She shot your mother, your father. You killed him." I scratched the back of my neck, remembering the burning itch of all the whippings. "One of the best days of my life."

"We ran into the woods. I taught you all sorts of life skills. Turned you into a killer instead of a crying little boy."

"Please. I need to stop. Victor, please! I can't keep going."

I adjusted the deer across my shoulders, and paused for just long enough for Jimmy to catch up to me. "You'll get stronger. Just ignore how much it hurts." My own shoulders and back were aching, but that wasn't a new experience. It was better than spending all day kneeling and scrubbing floors.

I slowed down anyway, slogging along through the weeds. Jimmy caught the edge of my ragged jacket in his fists and some of the dried blood flaked off his knuckles. The deer was his. His first. I had wanted to celebrate, but the owner of the land had found us somehow. Threatened to call the authorities. American was a different place. There wasn't so much forest to hide in. We needed to keep moving.

"We're not going that much farther." I lied so easily to him now. It didn't even make me feel guilty now. It was for his own good. The reality of the world would kill him. He wasn't ready.

"When you were old enough to fight I taught you to be a soldier." I glanced up at him, focusing on his frown. "Do you remember any of this?"

He face wrinkled, "Maybe." Then he sighed, "No, I don't." For once there was no anger in his voice.

I moved forward reflexively, crouching in front of him. "It's alright. Maybe something else is better." Something more painful.

"We fought in every war, from the civil war to world war II. And then everything changed." I leaned back against my heels, and stole myself to continue. "Striker. You remember him?"

"Sure. He's an ass." Logan seemed relieved to remember something, even if it was just a name.

"He recruited us for a special project. Project X." I raised an eyebrow, and watched as Logan's hands clenched into fists. "We were looking for adamantium. You and me and a couple of other mutants. The first other mutants we'd met. It went well for a couple of years. Then you had a change of heart about our methods." I forced myself to pause. To let him ask questions.

"Methods?"

I sighed. "My methods…"

"Which were?" He was leaning forward, hands resting on his knees. Knuckles white with tension.

"I killed an entire village of innocent people." Even now I didn't feel regret for killing those people. Only for losing Jimmy. Only for losing the only person who had ever been able to keep me even slightly human.

Logan jerked backward, eyes widening until they were mostly whites. He sat in silence for several impossibly long beats of my heart.

"I remember." He pushed his chair just the tiniest bit away from me. "You abandoned me. You let me way away alone." He glared, "You broke your promise. You always break your promise." He didn't even yell. The cold anger, the sheer disappointment in his voice hurt worse. It stabbed at my heart more painfully than his claws ever could. If I had been able to, I would have walked away and jumped off a cliff. But I was too far in. And I was too selfish to give up my life for the sake of his feelings. I needed to make him understand.

"There is nothing in my life that I regret more than that moment." Actually, there were several other moments that were far worse. But none of them hurt quite so badly as watching my little brother turn and walk away.