Logan's hackles rose. He really wasn't used to being contradicted much these days, and the way Karr kept testing him was more than a little grating, especially considering the long list of bad decisions his pup seemed to have been making lately. He had thwapped Karr up the side of the head for trying to push his hands away, and was now once again resisting the urge to punch him out and carry him away over a shoulder. He let out a short, exasperated sound, ready to swat Karr's hands away when he inevitably tried to hit back. It was a knee jerk reaction. His boy seemed genetically unable to not hit back. It was part of his charm, or something.
"Let's go. We're soaked enough that clothes look dark and you can't see the blood so well," he informed Karr, inadvertently falling into teacher mode. Logan was already sighing in his head, as if he could almost hear Karr's thoughts about blowing stuff up. He wanted this to work out, for the kid's sake more than his own, but he could see that this was going to be a day to day challenge. Was he really up for this? Was he ready to really be a hands-on dad? He couldn't be around all the time, and the kid was a half-grown man anyway.
Eventually, Logan found them a dingy bar where nobody would ask a lot of questions if they did see the blood on their clothes and bought them beers. His bike was far enough away from the Sentinel killings that it should be safe to go back for it some hours later when the excitement had died down. They had cut up and down fire escapes and alleys to make sure there was no trail to follow.
"So..." Logan said after downing half his beer, licking the foamy moustache off his upper lip. "What the hell are you thinking, hanging with that crowd?" Yes, Logan was the king of the subtle, well thought out remark. Not!