Life with superheroes

Clark dragged the hammer, puffing up his small chest as he looked at Logan. His little face, round and soft like a bun, made him appear cute despite his determination.

Logan swallowed hard, still surprised by the strength of the child. However, a smile slowly spread across his face.

'This kid must be a mutant,' he thought. 'There's no way a normal child could hold such a heavy hammer.'

His expression softened as his smile grew wider.

But Clark took a cautious step back, eyes narrowing as he said, "Bad thief! What do you want? Why are you looking at me like that? Are you thinking of something bad in your mind?"

Logan's face froze. "I'm not a thief!" he protested.

Clark raised the hammer, glaring at him. "My dad says people who don't wear clothes and show their...body in front of kids are bad people!"

Logan's mouth twitched. "What kind of stuff does your dad teach you? Is he out of his mind?"

"Don't talk bad about my dad, you bad thief!" Clark yelled, lifting the hammer again and charging at Logan with his short legs.

"Yaaah!" Clark shouted as he rushed forward.

Logan dodged easily, glancing at the gaping hole in the wall where the hammer struck. His mouth twitched uncontrollably.

'This kid is serious!'

Clark spat out some dust, glaring at Logan. "If you're so tough, stop dodging!"

Logan burst out laughing, thoroughly amused by the sight of the little boy trying to catch him.

Just then, Mike, having returned home, heard the ruckus coming from the warehouse. He opened the door, just in time to see a naked man laughing at his son.

"What the—!"

Mike's face turned red with rage. Before Logan could react, Mike flew forward and kicked Logan's chest with his might, sending him crashing to the floor.

Logan groaned, clenching his fists, trying to keep control of his claws.

Clark hurried over with the hammer in hand, but Mike scooped him up into his arms, taking the hammer from him. With one swift motion, he pressed the hammer against Logan's chest, keeping him pinned to the floor.

Logan sighed and looked at Mike, helpless. "Listen, man, this isn't what you think. I'm not a bad guy."

Mike studied Logan's face for a moment, his suspicion wavering. 

"Name?" he asked.

"Logan," Logan replied quietly.

'Wolverine,' Mike thought, recognizing the name.

After a brief silence, Mike sighed. "Looks like you've had a rough time."

Logan chuckled bitterly. "Incredibly rough."

As memories of recent events flooded back, Logan cursed under his breath. "Damn it..."

Mike set the hammer aside and said, "Get up."

Clark whispered to his dad, "He's not a thief?"

Mike patted Clark's head and smiled. "Doesn't seem like one."

Logan nodded, relieved. He was many things, but a thief wasn't one of them. 

Mike laughed heartily at Logan's expression, then put Clark down and reached into his pocket, pulling out some money. He walked over to Logan, whistling. 

Logan looked confused as Mike stuffed the money into his hand.

"If you don't mind, I've got some old clothes you can borrow," Mike said, holding Clark's hand as they walked out of the warehouse.

Logan stood there, staring at the money in his hand, feeling a mixture of gratitude and bewilderment. 'He's a good guy, but why did he give me money?'

Looking down at his naked body, Logan suddenly understood. He recalled the whistle Mike gave him and froze in place, his face twisting as he shouted after Mike, "I'm not a stripper!"

From outside, Mike's laughter echoed back.

Logan chuckled despite himself, then walked to the warehouse door. Just as he was about to step outside, a cold breeze hit him, making him stop in his tracks.

"Hey! Get me some pants first!" Logan yelled.

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