A/N: This story was planned out ages ago, but I'm tweaking my original plans a bit to play off of characterizations I enjoyed from Logan. I only have time to work on this during my lunch breaks/weekends at the moment, but I'm trying to update as quickly as possible while the inspiration is flowing.

Two

Even now, forty odd years estranged, Jimmy still managed to fuck up his life without even trying.

Case in point: Victor presently found himself trailing a berserk baby feral through the woods shortly after escaping the hellhole of a lab aforementioned berserk baby feral called home.

"Knew she would be nothing but trouble," He grumbled to himself.

He'd suspected it from the moment he found her and known for sure from the moment the girl had spotted the dead frail.

Helpless rage had rolled off her, and the kid jerked her hand away from his, running toward the dead woman. Victor examined the woman again, this time with something approaching interest.

She stank of blood and gore, the finer nuances of her scent lost in the wake of her death, but underneath that there was a trace of something that linked her to the kid.

Oh, fan-fucking-tastic. They'd killed her ma. Or caretaker. Whichever it was, there was nothing for it now.

He came up behind the girl while she was still taking it in.

"She's gone." Victor pointed out unnecessarily. He could smell the girl's tears even though she didn't make a sound.

"Ain't nothing you can do to change it. Whoever that was, if she was good to you, she wouldn't want you to stay here now."

He turned away.

A moment later, the girl followed.

By the time they were out the door, the kid had composed herself. It seemed eerie to him, but now wasn't the time to look at it further.

They were nearly clear of the compound, when the Jeeps pulled through the gate. Soldiers poured out with one self-important-looking douchebag stepping out in front.

Victor lengthened his claws.

"Twenty-three, return to your unit," Captain Douchebag ordered.

Victor turned toward the girl and back to the man in an exaggerated fashion.

"She ain't going the fuck anywhere. Get out of our way, and I might let you live. " Sabretooth wouldn't, and it wasn't like the man would actually do so, anyway. Still, it was fun to needle his prey before the kill.

Victor waited for the man to make the first move when an odd scent filled the air.

The girl tensed.

"Twenty-three, silence that man."

Low growls issued from the kid's throat, and her claws slipped free. She took two steps in Captain Douchebag's direction.

"No..., No!" The man used the same chiding tone one would use on a dog. Idiot. "You fools! Cut the gas! Now's not-"

The girl shot forward, mowing down every damn person in her path- rending and stabbing, with a particularly vicious kick to the head of Captain Douchebag. When she pulled back he saw an adamantium-coated claw jutting out from the kid's foot.

"Well, fuck me." Victor muttered, momentarily stunned.

'Mini-warhead' was about right. Victor just hadn't expected the girl to actually have the training to go along with it.

He reacted just in time to eviscerate a man aiming to bring the kid down from behind. Sabretooth joined in the fray and within minutes, it was all over. He and the kid were the only ones left standing.

With nothing left to kill, he'd half expected the girl to turn on him. But rather, she vaulted over the chain-link fence, shooting off into the tree line beyond the edge of the property, thus leading to his current predicament.

"I'm getting too old for this shit," Victor complained, as he picked his way through the underbrush. He wasn't particularly concerned about her hearing him, and with the carnage they left behind, he doubted that he really needed to worry about anyone else tracking them down any time soon.

It was the scent- and Sabretooth had no doubt that it was the scent- that triggered her outburst.

He'd seen that uncontrollable rage before, and, until today, had attributed it to Jimmy's unwillingness to accept his feral side. In the midst of battle, sometimes the runt would snap and completely lose all sense of anything but the killing, and fuck all if you got in his way.

Somehow, they had manufactured a way to trigger it on command. He just doubted they had intended it backfire quite so spectacularly.

The only question was as to how long the effects lasted. Victor didn't want to put the brat down. He would, if need be, but the thought rankled.

He'd told her she'd be safe, dammit, and that was reason number one he didn't make promises.

Victor lost the girl's trail.

If he had half a brain in his head, he'd take the opportunity to ditch the kid. He could walk away now- no harm, no foul.

Involuntarily, Victor was drawn into the memory of a night nearly two hundred years past- a different forest, a different child, but there had never been a question in following James.

And the one time Victor hadn't followed...

It was some time later he found the girl passed out under a bush, stinking of dead deer.

"God damn, kid. First, you run the hell off." Victor nudged her, but she was dead to the world.

"Then, you roll in deer guts- pretty sure you ought'a try not killin' it if you're trying to hide your scent."

His ride would doubtlessly be gone by this point and there was little Sabretooth hated more than being stranded. Going back to the lab at all would have been stupid beyond measure though, even if Jimmy's hellspawn hadn't led him on a five-mile wild goose chase into the woods.

"Then, you pass the fuck out, so, I have to carry ya. No question whose kid you are."

He hefted her up and started heading toward the distant sounds of traffic.

"And, to top it all off, I don't even know your fucking name!"