Remy folded his legs under him and rose gracefully, hand pressed to his head. It ached like a mother, and he'd have a fucking bald spot there, but better that than to lose his entire face. He hesitated a second, took a few steps back, and actually started to pivot before he stopped himself.

It would be easy to run away and leave Logan to handle this. He was sure that his assistance wasn't actually required, just as he was sure that it was in his best interests to turn tail and run. There was, however, his pride to consider. He'd been running from Creed for nearly two fucking years now, and to tuck tail and scurry away again was more than he could stomach.

So instead of running, he turned the pivot into a full 360, hand dipping into his pocket. Three charged cards flew past Logan's shoulder in rapid succession, two striking Creed in the chest and the other catching him high on the cheekbone.

"Fuck you, Creed," he spat, still slightly behind Logan, but standing his ground now. "You jus' try an' chew me after I blow the fuckin' teeth from your skull."