Since the bunker episode, Sam and Greg have been on good terms. The mutant started to take his weekly meetings with Dr Dawson more seriously, even though he still thought he didn't need them. He even met with Greg in the break room once in a while to chat about the latest movies or even the weather. Even if they would never admit that their relationship had evolved in the last few weeks, some people considered them friends. By some people, it was really just Lizzie who kept annoying the warden with such comments.

That day, Sam was walking freely in the hallways, something that didn't happen too often. You see, the British man usually had his guard, Christopher, following him around like a bulldog, but since the mutant had been showing good behavior in the last week, Lizzie privileged him without the presence of any guards, as long as his attitude stayed that way. So, there he was, wandering in the center, a book in hand. Sam's eyes were so captivated by the sentences of this fantasy novel that he didn't notice the man walking in the opposite direction. Evidently, the two men collapsed into each other, making the dark-haired man drop his book. Without a "sorry" or "my bad", the other man just continued on his walk while Sam sighed and picked up his book.

- Maybe watch where you're going next time. Exclaimed the mutant towards the other man.

That seemed to catch his attention as he turned around and walked at a fast pace towards Sam, a menacing gaze locked on him. Once there was only a couple inches separating them, the American threw an insult his way. A devilish smile drew Sam's lips as he looked at the man up and down. He was almost as tall as the British man. Well built, pale brown hair, a beard showing off his square jaw and emerald green eyes. All in all, a handsome man, but with a bad temper. Shame.

- Didn't your parents teach you manners? He defied.

Samuel seemed to have struck a nerve as the man became defensive. More insults and threats were sent his way as the mutant stood there and smiled arrogantly. Oh how he missed pissing people off. Lizzie didn't need to know, right? Oh, right… his privilege. If he didn't want to lose it, he had to be "the bigger person", as she kept telling him.

- Listen, I would love to stay and give you the attention that you lack, but I have other things to do. Ok? Bye bye, now!

Before he could even move, the American became physical. Sam couldn't help but to let out a laugh of amusement. He did love a good fist fight.

- Can't keep out of trouble I see.

Sam gazed on the warden who seemed already fed up by the situation. Once he got close to them, Greg stared angrily at the American before slapping him with a clipboard. Amused by this action, the British man let out a quick laugh. This didn't seem to go unnoticed as the warden slapped him next, shutting him up.

- You two. In my office. Now… Ordered Greg.

- He started it. Quickly added the British man to clear things up.

The last thing he wanted was for that arrogant man to make him lose his freedom privilege.

- Why is it always you two? You guys can't just chill for two seconds? Fuck, you guys will be the death of me.

As they were walking next to the warden on the way to his office, a voice shouted at the other end.

- Gregory Weber!

The three men stopped and turned around towards the owner of that voice. Before Sam could even make out who that person was, man or woman, a loud noise echoed through the empty hallway, startling him and the American. Blood splattered everywhere on Sam's face and clothes, making him take a step back. The assailant fled the hallway before anyone could stop him. The scene before him shook the dark-haired man to his core. His heart skipped a beat as Greg turned his terrified gaze on Sam. The warden was holding his neck as blood poured out quickly, dying his white shirt into a crimson red color. The warden's legs weakened and succumbed as he fell in Sam's direction. The British man came out of his shock and quickly grabbed the wounded man before he hit the floor. Together, they slowly went to the ground. Sam sat there, Greg in his arms, while the warden drowned in his own blood. The British man's panicked eyes gazed up at the American who stood there and watched in terror.

- Do something! Yelled Sam, his voice breaking.

He knew deep down that no one could save the warden. A clean shot to the neck like this meant that Greg had only seconds to live. Sam felt a hand grabbing at his shirt. He looked back down at the man, his breath shorter by the minute. The warden seemed to try and tell the British man something, but only a gurgling sound and blood came out of his mouth.

- Hold on, Greg… Just hold on! He repeated to the dying man. He looked up again. Don't you just stand there!

The American seemed lost and broken. Suddenly, the hand that was gripping tightly to Sam's shirt became limp and fell. Looking down at Greg, the dark-haired man noticed that he stopped moving. His eyes went vacant, as their luster dimmed. Sam shook him a little.

- Greg?... Greg!

No answers. He was gone. For the first time since his arrival to the center, the British man felt something different. The pain of losing someone he felt a connection with. He felt helpless. How could he let him die?

- He's dead. A new voice arose in the hallway.

A young man accompanied by what seemed to be a teenager stared at the scene with sorry eyes. Who were they? And why didn't they seem distressed by the situation before them? Before Sam could even get one word out of his mouth, the young man got closer, being careful not to step into the pool of blood.

- I'm Victor. This is Toby. He added. I have the ability to tell when someone's about to die… I warned Greg weeks ago about his aura… I've been careful to follow him everywhere, but… I failed him. He finished, sadness in his voice.

As the British man was still sitting in a pool of Greg's blood, holding his lifeless body, the teenager known as Toby crouched at Sam's level and placed a gentle hand on his arm. He plunged his blue eyes into Sam's dark ones and simply said in a calming voice that he could help. The British man stared back, completely lost and confused. Everything was happening so fast.

The researches weren't progressing fast enough and the goddamn computer was a real pain for Will. As he was becoming impatient, his friend Selma has suggested him to take a stroll  to cool down his temper. Normally, he wouldn't have let go that easily, but the woman had this effect with him, leading him without the necessity of raising her voice or any authoritative tone. The American knew she meant well and he was no help if he was to kept pacing around in the apartment and raise hell.


Now, he had been traveling back and forth between the apartment, his cell and around Greg's office. The latter location was to keep an eye on the warden, as he knew now that there was an omen of danger surrounding the German man. On his route to see Weber, Adler was ruminating thoughts about the investigation, searching leads and connections between what they knew. He also had to try to let go for a moment, as he didn't want to show his impatience when he would see Greg.


All those inner distractions kept the mutant's head in the cloud, barely realizing that he just bumped into someone. As he heard the complain of this person, his heels turned to face the individual. Maybe he would have apologized if it was someone else, but seeing that it was Samuel Montgomery, just this sight irritated the American man. He knew this British mutant from his reputation and had some quick encounters now and then. Tall, dark and well-dressed, his arrogance was utterly annoying. Already in a bad mood, Will couldn't refrain from confronting Sam, now face-to-face with him.


- Or what? You're gonna throw me a cup of tea, Brit? Try me and will see.


Adler would have ignore other people lashing such provocations, but Montgomery had this way to get under his skin. Not only the green-eyed man couldn't stand his whole personality, but he had been also secretly jealous of how Sam and Greg were getting closer. Yes, it was partly because the warden was his liver, but he also came wary to anyone approaching the warden, especially the ones with nasty attitude.


Today wasn't a good day for tolerance. Sam's taunting only pissed off the Will even more than he already was.


- Don't go assume a thing about me, you ignorant asparagus. I don't do respect to snob bastard, that's all.


On the verge to snap, Adler would have let go if the man would only have left without a word. That last mockery was the last drop. Without really thinking about the consequences, Will tackled the British man against the wall.


- Too late, man. You've got my attention.


As he was about to punch, a familiar voice resonated behind the American, making him back off a little. Smirking a little while Greg was giving them this upset parent look, Adler  was first insulted by the smack behind his head, but also had to restraint a giggle, as the warden needed a clipboard for reaching him. He wouldn't hide his cocky smile after Sam received the same treatment. The British comment made Will scoffed.


- Damn right, I did.


Following Weber, the American was trying his best to ignore the other mutant. Hopefully, this would be a quick sermon, then they would be let go each on their way, away from each other. Well, Adler had planned to stay near the warden for a moment, so this was going his way.


The shout took Will by surprised and everything afterward went too fast. He didn't have the time to get a look at the assailant that his eyes caught the sight of blood. Making up the trail, his eyes widen with horror, as he saw Greg collapse. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happened. He had promise that he wouldn't let anything happen to him. He was there and couldn't even stop it. As he came back to his senses from Montgomery's voice, the American rushed by Weber's side, applying pressure on the wound. His hand was trembling, soaking in the gushing blood. This was a fatal wound. He didn't want to acknowledge it, denying the reality. Lifting his head to look around frantically, he kept searching for any support they could get.


- Help! A doctor! Any--.


The sudden silence came like an icy wind, shivering down the mutant's spine. No more raspy breaths, no more gnarling, nothing. His green eyes fell on the inert body on the floor before slowly lifting up toward the one who just said the most frightening words. No. He couldn't be dead. He shouldn't be dead. Dismayed, Adler eyes were searching the void for something, or maybe for nothing. He didn't even hear the others came in, nor the mutant's explanation about his presence. Unable to move, Will's hand was still on his lover's neck, knee down in the pool of blood. It's only when he heard the faint voice of the teenager now in front of him that his glassy eyes lifted toward his. Trying to control his emotions, his own voice showed struggle, as it was strangled by the tightening in his throat.


- Please... Anything you can do... Do it, please...

***

Weber slowly opened his eyes, feeling a bit dizzy at first. Where was he? Was he in his apartment? No. Obviously not. He slowly turned his head on the side. He quickly understood where he was, the infirmary. His hand slowly went to his neck, did he really survived that fatal wound? His fingers brushed against his unarmed skin... Did he dreamed about all this? Did he simply fainted because of a lack of sleep and food? Will had warned him about this, telling him he didn't want to learn he had collapsed because he overworked himself. Oh god Adler will be mad about this. 

Gregory tried to sit down, but his head started spinning like crazy, only making him groan. He soon felt hands on his chest, forcing him to stay down. His eyes finally fell on Adler, a small smile drew itself on his face, but soon disappeared as he saw his expression. In fact... Everyone was there, Sam, Lizzie, Selma, Victor... Did he really die?

-What... Happened...?

Sam didn't know who the boy was and how he was supposed to help. Greg was dead in his arms, it was too late. The boy placed a careful hand on the warden's wound and closed his eyes. Sam watched the young mutant's neck become wounded as if he was the one who got shot. Without warning, his face lost its colour and he fell to the floor, lifeless. What the bloody hell was happening? This isn't how this day was supposed to go!

As Victor was mourning the loss of a friend, Sam seemed to regain one. Greg was… breathing?! The British man placed his finger on the warden's neck to feel his pulse. He gazed up at the American, surprised.

- He's alive.

Both men looked at each other, stunned. Before anyone could do or say anything else, footsteps echoed in the hallway.

- Where is he? Exclaimed a familiar voice.

Sam looked up and locked eyes with Lizzie and Margot. Both women ran towards them.

- Oh my god, Greg! Shouted Lizzie.

They crouched at Will and Sam's level and examined the warden. Margot concluded that the warden was barely holding on and that he needed blood transfusions. She looked up at Sam and asked him if he could help her to put him on a stretcher. He quietly nodded and picked up Greg in his arms while the American followed closely.

Together, they entered the infirmary and the wounded man was carefully placed on one of the beds. While Margot tended to him with the help of Will and Selma, Victor sat on a chair mourning the loss of his friend that was brought to the morgue. Lizzie walked over to Sam who seemed to stare blankly into the void. She placed a gentle hand on the mutant's arm, careful not to startle him. He looked at her and the redhead smiled.

- I'm glad you were with him. She started, calmly. Are you ok?

Sam just lowered his gaze, not knowing how to answer this simple question. He looked down at his trembling hands. Greg's blood was all over them. That's when he realized that his clothes and face were also still bloody. Lizzie noticed his concern and took his hand.

- Go in the back. There's a sink. You may clean your hands and face. I'll try to find you a change of clothes.

The British man gave one last look towards Greg before going in the back. Sam looked at his reflection in the mirror. What he saw made his heart sink. The red splatter all over his face and shirt gave him flashes of what happened not too long ago. The dark-haired man quickly opened the water and scrubbed the blood off his skin. Once that was done, Lizzie brought him clean clothes so he could get rid of the blood-stained ones. He changed and then came back to Greg's room where everyone was. It took a while, but the warden eventually woke up. He seemed very confused as his eyes looked around the room, searching for familiar faces.

- What... Happened…?

Everyone looked at each other, silently asking who was going to explain the situation. As the silence grew louder and louder, Sam let out a sigh.

- You were shot. He said, oddly calm. All eyes were now on him. Some unknown mutant shot you… and you died.

He paused to let Greg take it all in. The warden seemed troubled by such information. The others were taken aback at how calm the British man was.

- But another mutant, Toby I believe his name was, gave his life to save yours… He finished.

The silence came back. Greg seemed shocked by the news of Toby's death. Silent tears rolled down Victor’s face as he gazed down to avoid eye contact. One by one, everyone ended up leaving the room, either tired or because duty called. Victor was the first to leave, telling Greg how sorry he was that he couldn’t be there to prevent it. Next was Lizzie who excused herself as she had appointments coming soon. She kissed the warden on the forehead as she told him how glad she was that he was alive. Selma left soon after the therapist due to being exhausted. She trusted Will to keep an eye on Greg. Only Sam, the American and Margot were left in the room with the patient. The brunette had no choice but to stay as being present was her job. Will, on the other hand, refused to leave Greg’s side. No matter how Margot told him he needed sleep, he didn’t budge. The British man only saw fit that the American was enough to keep the warden’s company as he was sleeping. He then got up from his chair and nodded towards Will as a goodnight before leaving the infirmary.

The next day, Sam brought coffee to the infirmary with the help of Lizzie who gave him supervised access to the employee lounge. She gave him a tray and explained how the warden drank his bitter drink. As for Will, she told the dark-haired man to bring him black coffee and sugar on the side, just in case. She also prepared one for Margot, as she worked all night to keep Greg comfortable. Once Sam arrived in Greg’s room, the American gazed at him. His eyes told him that he had just woken up and was already back at his friend’s side. Without a word, the British man gave a cup of coffee to Will with the sugar packets. He carefully placed the other one on the table near Greg’s bed for when he awakes. When Dr. Lloyd walked in, Sam handed the last coffee to her. Her smile widened as she thanked him for this generous gesture. The dark-haired man sat on the same chair he did the night before and let out a sigh. He took a sip from his bitter drink as he grimaced. He wasn’t a fan of coffee. Never really enjoyed the taste. But after spending a sleepless night, he needed this little boost of energy.

The room stayed silent. Will and Sam weren’t about to start a conversation. They didn’t like each other and that was that. Why pretend just because a mutual friend was laying in a hospital bed? At least, they respected the fact that Greg liked them both and did not fight while in his presence. They were adults, after all, and needed to act as such. Hours went by and the American decided it was maybe time for him to get some sleep in his own bed. Margot reassured him that she will take good care of the warden while he was away. With Will now out of the room, only Sam remained. A couple of minutes went by before rustling sounds got the dark-haired man out of his thoughts and back to reality. Greg was waking up. Sam slowly got up and got closer to the bed. He sat in the chair where Will was before. Once the two men locked eyes, the British man’s lips drew a soft smile.

- Well… Look who’s back.

The warden smiled back but didn’t say a word. The situation must be hard for him to swallow. Sam sighed.

- I got you a coffee… But it’s probably cold now. Do you want me to fetch you another one?

Greg didn’t seem like he wanted to be left alone. Sam took the hint and simply nodded.

- Ok, sleeping beauty.

There was a silence where both men just looked at each other, not knowing what to say or do. Sam never really had friends and so this situation for him was a bit awkward.

- How are you holding up? He finally asked to break the silence.

After an honest and simple answer from the warden, the question returned back to him. The British man froze a bit, not knowing what to say. He rarely had anyone except his therapist ask him about his feelings. The mutant opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it. As Greg was waiting for an answer, Sam’s mood weirdly changed.

- Me? I’m fine, don’t worry. I’m not the one who got shot, died and then came back to life. He answered, a smile on his face.

The warden seemed to see right through his lie, but nothing else was said. Lizzie told Greg in the past that Sam wasn’t an open book and rarely faced his emotions head-on. He usually hides behind this overconfident persona instead of opening up to people, which was sometimes frustrating. Was it trust issues or low self-esteem? That, she still had to find out. Before Sam could add anything else to the conversation, Will walked into the room. Wasn't he gone to bed? Maybe someone told him that the patient woke up. Greg's eyes lit up at the sight of the American. The British man took it as his queue to leave.

- I'm gonna leave you two some privacy. He said while getting up.

Before the British man left the room, the warden showed him gratitude. Sam simply nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

- No worries. We'll talk later.

He left the room, leaving the American and Greg alone.

Days passed, and everyone seemed to have forgotten how the warden died and returned to life. The mutants from the center continued their boring lives and conversations as Sam cautiously walked the hallways. His dark-brown eyes analyzed every movement while his ears captured every sound surrounding him. He wasn’t going to let his guard down again.

- Sam?

The gentle voice made him jump as he turned around. Lizzie was standing right behind him, her eyes looking at him up and down as if trying to read him. The mutant wasn’t wearing his usual ''fancy'' clothes. He had on a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans, which made it hard for the redhead to find him. She carefully placed her hand on his arm. The contact made him flinch a little.

- You didn’t come to your appointment. I was worried you got into another fight. She paused as she smiled, but no reaction from Sam. Are you ok?

The dark-haired man hesitated before adding a smile to his lips.

- Was it today? Sorry, I must’ve forgotten it. He paused. I’m fine, Dr… Really.

He didn’t seem convincing enough for the therapist who slightly squeezed his arm.

- You know I’m here for you, right? If you need anything…

- I’m fine. He repeated.

As she let go of him, a loud bang echoed through the hallway making Sam physically jump as his heart almost stopped. Someone had slammed a door nearby. The mutant turned his gaze to the redhead who was now more concerned than ever. He let out a nervous laugh.

- That was loud, wasn’t it? He paused, seeing that she wasn’t convinced. Anyway, I’m sorry, but I had other plans… Can we do this another time?

Lizzie slowly nodded as the mutant walked away, hands in his pockets. Immediately, the redhead walked over to Greg’s office, knowing that was where the warden would be.


- Good morning Herr Montgomery.

Sam was sitting on the couch in the break room, staring into the void. The warden’s voice got him out of his head as he gazed up at him. The short man was telling him to follow him. The mutant got up and did as he asked. Together, they walked in silence toward the warden’s office. Once inside, Sam immediately felt a weight come off his shoulders. He felt safe, for some reason. As he sat down, a drink was pushed toward him. He politely grabbed it and took a first sip. He closed his eyes as the elixir caressed his throat. This drink was much needed.

- How are you feeling Sam..? I've been sent by your "best friend".

Sam scoffed as he kept his eyes on the drink. Of course, Lizzie went to Greg. Did he really expect the therapist to stay quiet? Why couldn’t he be left alone?

- As I told Lizzie… I’m fine. He finished his sentence, gazing up at the warden.

The smile on Greg’s face told him he wasn’t a good liar, not today at least. The British man sighed and took another sip of his drink. He lowered his gaze once more.

- What do you guys want from me? Can’t I be left alone? He paused. Why the sudden interest in my well-being?

There was a silence floating in the room. Without looking, Sam could feel Greg’s gaze weighing on him as if pressuring him to talk.

- Really, I thought you didn’t care about me… So why now?

Finally, the warden spoke. His voice was nonchalant as if just having a day-to-day conversation with the mutant. He simply told him that they wanted to know how he felt since the incident. Sam finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the desk.

- So that’s what it’s about… He muttered to himself before smiling sarcastically. Like I told you before, Greg, I’m not the one who got shot, died and then miraculously came back to life! He paused as he was getting frustrated with all that new attention. In fact, I should be the one asking you if you’re ok!

Once again, the silence came back. Both men gazed at each other before the warden lost the staring contest to look back at his drink. He really had nothing to say? Why was he brought to his office, then? The British man scoffed.

- Anyway… It’s irrelevant, my feelings don’t matter in this case. He concluded in a melancholic tone.

- Listen... You might think it doesn't matter, but it does…

Greg’s voice was gentle and kind, which caught Sam off guard. It almost sounded like he cared for him, which would somehow be hard to believe. As the warden downed his first drink, the British man kept his eyes on his hands.

- I'm… Greg’s voice brought Sam back to reality. I mean, there is no manual to guide me on how to react after you come back from the dead... So… To be honest, I'm terrified. So fucking terrified.

Weber drank another glass before pouring himself a third one and filling Sam’s empty glass on the desk. The silence floated in the room as the men looked at eachother. The dark-haired man drank his second drink while feeling it’s effect already. Sam’s head was turning a bit while his skin seemed to warm up. He usually could take alcohol pretty well, but the exhaustion and the lack of eating made him drunker by the minute with only alcohol to feed him.

- I guess, it really fucked with my brain... I always thought I was ready to die…

The words Greg just spoke fell like a brick on the mutant’s head. He quickly gazed up from his drink and gave a surprised look towards the warden. Gregory Weber, suicidal? As the short man laughed, Sam felt even more confused than before.

- Listen, let's just say that... I don't have the best life. People think it's all easy and all to be the warden... And a lot of people seemed to assume that I have the perfect family, life. Which, it's false. I can't really see them... And I was, well thought I was ready to join them... Turns out, dying was mmmh... Not the wish anymore? Just terrifying to now that people wants you dead, and that now any day could be your last... And this time, an innocent kid might not be ready to sacrifice himself for you…

Wait. Backing up a bit. Greg’s family is… dead? Sam’s dark eyes followed the warden’s gaze towards the pictures on the fire place, the same pictures the mutant commented on in the past. A rush of guilt made it’s way in Sam’s head as he lowered his gaze, once more.

- I guess I'm not ok... And... I... I know you're not either, and somehow ... I guess…

The warden stopped mid-sentence. He was afraid. Afraid to open up to Sam and he could understand that feeling all too very well. The mutant picked up the bottle and served himself another glass that he drank pretty quickly before filling it up again.

- I’m really sorry… He paused , noticing the warden’s gaze on him. About your family, that is… I had no idea-

Greg stopped him mid-sentence, lifting his hand, telling him not to bother. Sam sighed and took a smaller sip. His dark gaze fell on the ring he had around his right hand’s middle finger. A ring that was passed down from generation to generation. It’s probably the only thing his father ever gave him, since he was his only child. Even though he hated the man, Sam always had it around his finger.

- At least you have family to miss… His voice broke the silence. My father never really cared for me… it was always his job or his prodigy… I spent my whole life trying to please the old bastard but nothing was ever enough. He paused, downing his drink once more to burn the pain of his past. As for my mother… She always claimed how I was her "little miracle" as she's had difficulty conceiving a child. She always said that I was everything to her, but I think she actually meant her reputation… He paused again as painful memories he tried to bury years ago were surfacing again. If she loved me the way she claimed all my life… She would've gotten me out of here a long time ago. He finished, finally gazing up to Greg.

Sam poured another glass for him and one for Greg who also finished his last drink. The bottle was now empty. The British man surprised himself at how open he was with the warden. He never really talked about his family except how he hated his old man. Maybe the alcohol was the elixir the dark-haired man needed to open up. Isn’t that the case for everyone? Greg stood up and walked towards his liquor cabinet to grab another bottle. That meant only one thing… They weren’t done talking. The warden sat back down and opened the new bottle. He started sharing a bit about his own family while Sam listened carefully. They weren’t that much different. It was troubling, really. Once the silence came back, the British man lowered his gaze once more.

- You know… I’ve seen many people die around me… He lifted his gaze on Greg. I mean… You know what I’ve done… What I’m capable of. He paused, not knowing how to say the next part. He started to nervously turn the ring on his finger and looked down. I never cared for these poor souls, really… I might’ve enjoyed taking their lives sometimes… But having you die in my arms, it- He stopped, feeling the words chocking in his throat. It- I never felt like I was loosing something… But I felt powerless… And that- that was terrifying. He looked up. I'm terrified, Greg. He finally concluded.  

- Can you walk without looking too drunk?

Sam lifted his confused gaze to the warden. The short man had a plan and the mutant was now intrigued. Greg got up from his chair and motioned Sam to follow him, which he did without hesitation. Together they walked the empty hallways while trying not to fall face-first on the floor. As they thought to be alone, a woman came out of nowhere and bumped into Sam who quickly caught her before she fell.

- I am so sorry! He exclaimed.

- No worries, Sam. She responded, almost starstruck.

The mutant looked back at Greg who simply shrugged.

- I’m going to go, now. He simply added before turning his back on the young lady.

The strange woman smiled and bit her lower lip as she waved the men goodbye. Confused, the dark-haired looked at the warden as he walked by his side.

- Who was she? How did she know my name?

The short man simply replied that he never saw her before and that it wasn’t surprising for people to know Sam’s name. True. He kept forgetting how he was well known for his past work on mutants. After a while, the two drunk men ended up at the pool. No one was around due to the late hours.

- Thought it would both make us some good to get out of that damn office.

Good point. The warden immediately jumped into the still water, completely clothed. Sam shrugged and jumped right after. The mutant let himself sink to the bottom of the pool and stayed there for a while. It felt good to be surrounded by water and complete silence. Not only it sobered him a bit, but it calmed him after everything that happened. Once he felt pressure on his chest, Sam took it as his queue to go back up. The British man gave himself a boost by pushing the pool’s floor with his legs and swam quicker to the surface. Once his head was out of the water, Sam gazed at Greg who stayed away from the deep side of the pool. The dark-haired man smiled.

- Do you do this often? Come to the pool after hours?

The warden confirm that he did which amused the mutant. His laugh echoed against the walls as he went back underwater. The men stayed in this room for a while until guards found them. The good times were over.

- Come out of the water, Montgomery. You should be in your room by now. Hoffman’s orders. The guard spoke the last words while looking at Greg.

The mutant sighed with annoyance as he got out of the water. He approached his guard with a wide smile on his face.

- Come here, Christopher. You look like you need a hug!

The guard tried his best to stay away, but Sam was quick and strong. He embraced Christopher, making his clothes wet. The guard pushed him off while Sam laughed.

- You fucking asshole! Come on, let’s go! Christopher hissed.

Before crossing the doors, the mutant looked back at Greg who was still sitting by the pool. He mouthed the words ''Thank you'' before leaving the room.