Author's Note: Wow… You guys actually like me… *grin* Thank-you to everyone for the responses… This is just to tell you (because I forgot to say before) that the information I use in this story will be accurate up to Epsisode "Safe Haven

Author's Note: Wow… You guys actually like me… *grin* Thank-you to everyone for the responses… This is just to tell you (because I forgot to say before) that the information I use in this story will be accurate up to Epsisode "Safe Haven." After that, the story goes through my warped little head.

Chapter 3: Anchor

Visibly grimacing, Logan's intellect took over, "You can explain the rest later. As for right now, you two look a mess." To Max's relief, Logan flashed them one of his gentle smiles--the one he reserved for people he cared about… "There's a bath down the hall, I can show you, and I can lend you some oversized t-shirts while we clean your clothing, how's that sound?" Logan wheeled over to Jason, whose head was still buried in his arms, his voice lowering into a compassionate whisper, Logan addressed Jason, "Hey… It's over now… Come on, I'll help you to the bathroom… No one's gonna hurt you…" It was a long shot, but if what these kids were telling him was true, then they should know that…

Regardless of how, Jason trusted Logan somehow, because he threw his arms around Logan's neck and crawled onto his lap, tears still leaking from his eyes, "It'll be okay…"

"We'll make it better," Max was suddenly standing beside the wheelchair, ready to take Mitad's hand, "I promise." She gave the two children a shaky smile, "After all, we're superheroes…"

Jason was reluctant to let go of Logan's neck once they got to the bathroom door, "Shh… it's okay…" Logan strove to reassure him. Finally, he managed to fob the child off on Max, who ended up sitting on the floor with Mitad by her side, and Jason in her lap as Logan ran the bath water.

"Okay." For once, everyone had to look up to see Logan, which was a welcome change, "There are plenty of towels to go around, lots of soap and water and shampoo… Enough to drown an army, much less bathe one." Logan smiled again, "We'll be out in the kitchen, just holler if you need anything, okay? There are T-shirts hanging there," Logan gestured, "On the towel rack, alright? Don't be afraid to shout if you need anything, anything at all."

"thank you." Jason murmured.

Logan fluffed the child's hair, "Not a problem."

Logan got out of their way quickly, but Max stayed just a moment, "You'll be alright?" She asked, remembering how terrified they must be… It was obvious they hadn't been trained like her… For one thing, they could cry, and had no compunctions about it, for another, they had blurted their information like all-get-out. If they needed something… they might just ask.

"Yes, thank-you." Mitad told her politely.

Nodding, Max stood for just one more minute before whirling away and rushing down the hallway after Logan.

His back was to her, his head bowed. One hand, resting against the countertop, held his glasses, the other was toying with a knife that had been left out on the cutting board.

"Logan?" Max asked, tentative, feeling as though she was infringing on something, even though lately, the penthouse felt like she owned it along with him.

"Hmm?" He turned just enough so that she could see him in profile.

"Logan…"

He was staring at the knife, "Just kids… Just kids… How--? What kind of a person…" He trailed off into a growl and with a startlingly violent movement, he slammed the knife into the cutting board, leaving it stuck in there, upright and quivering. Suddenly his broken voice filtered to her enhanced ears. If it hadn't been for her Manticore blood, she wouldn't have heard him, "Am I that kind of a person?" But, she wasn't supposed to hear, so she didn't respond.

Max took one step forward, "Logan…" She repeated again, helplessly, not knowing what to say. She was especially helpless because, what he was feeling now? She felt it too.

He finally faced her, and saw that haunted look on her face. Immediately, guilt assaulted him, Damn. Didn't even think. Too busy drowning in my own angst to help out the one who this is affecting the most. Despite herself, her eyes were filling with tears.

"We—they're all just little kids." Max bit back a sob. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't… Dampness trailed a path down her cheekbone, soaking her patented, Manticore skin.

"Oh, God, Max…" Logan thought his chest would burst with what he was feeling. Helplessness, and impotent rage… and above that all a tenderness towards her that was all-consuming. Not knowing what else to do, Logan opened his arms, and Max surprised them both by running into them, sitting on his lap like Jason had, moment's ago, hiccuping sobs into his neck, "Oh, Max," Logan stroked her hair, rubbed her back, but he didn't speak. There was nothing to say. Nothing to make up for her wasted years, her guilty existence, her trademarked DNA. This had been building for a while… She couldn't possibly hold it in any longer, and there was nothing he could do for her anymore. He simply held her tight and rocked her, hoping that the children wouldn't come out of the bath and see her like this.

After the sobs had subsided, Max just rested there, limp against his chest, listening to her pulse pound in her ears… With a start, she realized that it was not her own heart beating she listened to, it was Logan's. Lingering for just a moment, trying to hold on to his warmth, Max lifted her head, to gaze Logan in the eyes.

Pinning her with a steady, somber gaze, Logan reached out a hand to cup her cheek. It was meant to be a casual movement, but it sent a shiver up Max's spine. To be in such an intimate position with him was so strange…

"Are you alright?" Logan asked, then shut his eyes, almost as if in pain, "Stupid question." He corrected himself, "Will you be alright?" It was so unreal to be having this conversation while sitting on his lap… Max had the crazy desire to tell him what she wanted for Christmas, after all, she'd never gotten to tell Santa as a child. Never got to do anything as a child… 'Cept shout 'no sir' 'yes sir' 'here, let me torment myself for your cruel, sadistic pleasure, sir.' If someone gave me a childhood, I wouldn't know what to make of it…

Max nodded, scrubbing her eyes, back to business as usual, "Yeah, we can talk about it later. As of right now, we need to discuss those kids." She swung one leg off the wheelchair, and tried to crawl off him in as dignified a manner as possible. The attempt failed miserably when it became obvious that Logan had gotten his fingers caught in Max's luxurious brown curls.

"Uhh…" Logan began to blush, "Here… Let me…" Finally getting his fingers disentangled, Logan looked at her sheepishly, "Sorry about that…"

"No prob." Max gave a silly little smile, an oddly fitting contrast with her tear-stained cheeks. Giving one last sniff, dragging her denim sleeve across her eyes, she closed that emotional door and rerouted her energy, "Now, about the kids…"

Logan looked away, his eyes focused on some vague point out the window, "I believe them." He said quietly, "What they're telling us is insane, it's impossible. But I believe them."

Max approached him, gazing out the window, trying to see what it was he could find out in the darkness to hold his interest so. "Wanna know something crazier?"

"Mmm?"

"So do I."

He smiled at that, "So we wait for them to inform us, then we go from there?"

"Yeah…" She put a hand on his shoulder, it was a simple motion, she'd done it a thousand times before. This time, it felt different. Maybe it was that almost totally unfamiliar salty taste in her mouth, maybe it was the fact that, unlike so many other times, today Logan wasn't hiding his feelings. His pain was palpable, some foreign being clogging the air between them.

He wasn't like her, Max realized, he didn't want to be a killer. Wasn't trained for it. Didn't have the heart—or lack thereof—or the stomach to take it. His altruism was one of the things she was most annoyed by in Logan, but it was also one of the principal reasons that she loved him. In the last week, he'd had that stolen away. He could no longer even pretend to be a good guy… He was now safely in that gray zone that Max herself so comfortably inhabited. He had killed.

"Logan?"

He raised a hand to touch hers, where it was resting on his shoulder, "Yeah?"

She took his hand in hers, squeezed it, "If there's anything you need to talk about…"

"I know, Max. I know…"

"Right." She nodded, feeling utterly useless. This is why I like using my hands… But there's nothing here for me to beat up. I can't escape this one for him, he's gotta do it himself. Wrapped in her own dark mood, she sought out her anchor. Lazily, as if the movement was of no importance, she snaked her arms around Logan's shoulders and nestled her head next to his. In response, he reached up and laid his hands over her forearms.

They stayed a while, like that, both simply staring out the window into nothing, but at least taking solace in each other's company. For now, that was enough.