Basically more filler, because I can't seem to write an entire chapter these days

When all was said and done.. After picking apart ashen ruins and charred food, all that was left standing were the sparse, rock walls. Still hot from the fire, along with the stone floor. Webber and Wynn stood just outside, looking nervously at Wilson, who had obviously had enough of the magician's tricks.

Wilson kicked over chests and what were the remains of his machines in a fit of anger. He was seething. He gripped the journal tightly in his fist, hoping it would wall apart in his hands like everything else had.

There was NOTHING left. Not even scraps of half burnt food. He paced angrily around what was his camp, his home. He couldn't believe the lengths at which Maxwell would go to exact his revenge, but then he stopped. Since when was he ever anything but unhelpful? Of course this is what he would do, childish warfare for something so petty.

Wynn touched his hand. Wilson ripped his arm away, rearing up suddenly. Wynn, obviously scared half to death back away. Wilson looked at what he was doing. He flopped his arm down, sighing in frustration. He kneeled down to meet Wynn at eye level.

He stared at her, judging how badly he should feel. She didn't look at him, she couldn't. Really bad it was then.

"I'm.. Sorry." He let out another drawn out sigh, his anger now being replaced with shame, for letting his anger get the best of him.

She fidgets.

"Wynn." He says her name, hoping she would look at him. She only gives him a quick glance. His heart sank. How was he going to make up for this?

"Wilson.. I… Did uncle Max do this?" She still isn't looking, but he can still see her well up in tears, and it's breaking his heart. He feels something deep within the pit of his stomach, a feeling he's never known. He wants to protect her, to hide her from this truth, but he knows it's wrong.

So he nods slowly and tells her the truth. "Most likely, yes."

She's wiping away the tears, and he aches, that feeling welling up to nearly painful levels. He tears his eyes away from her to look at Webber, who is looking just as broken. He motions for them to come over, and with a few uncertain steps they do.

So now he has two tearful children, just standing in front of him, and he has no idea on how to remedy the situation. He tries to think back to what his father would do. Grow up. He felt worse, he couldn't say that.. He thinks of the sparing memories he has of his mother, but he can't conjure anything up.

He doesn't know what to do, any more than what these children know. He sighs, trying the one thing he can think of, pulling both of them into his arms. They are still crying, but they cling so tightly, and it takes all he can to not cry with them, to be strong.