The two had only met today, and although they found each other to be pleasant and felt a certain closeness, some things remained unspoken.
For a moment, the table fell into silence.
Clark, curious about the quiet between them, took a small sip of his juice and asked, "Dad, which room is Uncle Logan sleeping in tonight?"
"He'll be leaving in a little while," Mike replied, turning to Logan with a smile. "Right, Logan?"
Logan's eyes dimmed briefly, but he quickly laughed, playfully tapping Clark's nose. "Yeah, I've got things to take care of—lots of things!"
Watching Logan, Mike sighed inwardly. Logan was a good guy, and it would have been nice to remain friends, but he was clearly burdened by trouble right now.
From Logan's earlier behavior, Mike guessed that Logan had likely just been injected with Adamantium, escaped from Stryker's facility, and was now being hunted.
If it weren't for Clark, Mike wouldn't have minded sticking around to help Logan deal with Stryker. But as a father, his priority was to protect his son.
An hour later, Logan stood at the door, saying his goodbyes to Mike and Clark.
Looking at the father and son, Logan felt a warmth spread through his otherwise cold heart. If not for Mike, he'd probably still be hungry and wandering aimlessly.
He understood that staying here would only bring trouble to them. He couldn't ask for more, nor did he have the right to. Mike had already done enough.
Grateful, Logan said, "Man, thank you."
Mike nodded, patting Logan's shoulder. "Take care, Logan! Once you've dealt with your troubles, you're welcome to visit anytime."
Logan grinned, nodded, then bent down and gently pinched Clark's cheek. "See you later, little man."
Clark waved cheerfully. "Bye, Uncle Logan."
With a smile, Logan turned and walked away.
Step by step, he disappeared into the darkness, like a lone wolf.
"Daddy, Uncle Logan looks.... What is that?" Clark asked, looking up.
Mike replied softly, "Lonely."
"Yeah, that's what I was going to say."
Mike chuckled. "What do you know, little man?" He picked Clark up, laughing. "Come on, it's time for bed."
But in the next instant, Mike's expression changed. Without hesitation, he rolled backward with Clark in his arms.
Bang!
A bullet whizzed through the air, striking the ground where they had just stood, leaving a small crater.
Boom! Boom!
Mike's heart raced as time seemed to slow down. Assassin instincts kicked in.
Holding Clark tightly, Mike dashed toward a nearby house, all while more bullets rained down behind him, leaving craters in their wake.
Rage flared in Mike's heart—the bullets had been aimed at Clark.
"This bastard!" Mike growled under his breath.
Dodging the shots, Mike scanned the distance, searching for the shooter.
"I found him!" Mike's eyes narrowed.
With a swift leap, Mike dove into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. He rolled to the ground, cradling Clark as they took cover behind a wall.
Pop! Pop!
A series of muffled shots punched holes through the door.
Mike stayed low as Clark, teary-eyed but unafraid, clung to him. They hid in the dead centre of the living room, out of the shooter's line of sight.
"Dad?" Clark whispered, his blue eyes filled with confusion but no fear.
Mike hugged him tightly and, in the calmest voice he could muster, said, "Don't be afraid."
Clark nodded, pressing his head against Mike's chest. "Yeah."
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