Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Logan stood outside of his motel room in silence, crickets sounded off in the night. Most of his days were filled with silence, even with his new passenger. Two years ago he had met Laura through a court order. For eight years Logan was oblivious to the fact that he had a daughter. And probably for good reason. But there was no denying it, her eyes, hair, and scent all pointed to Logan. It was an unfortunate fate for both of them.

Laura had been brooding that first year, eventually even combative just like her father. Logan felt wholly inadequate during those first months. He knew nothing of fatherhood, and even less so of raising a girl. His nomadic lifestyle swiftly ended, as he tried his best to raise a werewolf pup. This world didn’t take kindly to the supernatural. 

School was difficult for Laura. Previously homeschooled, she had no reason to hide her nature, but with the public, her reality changed. She got in trouble often, and more and more eyes turned to the Howletts. More eyes than Logan was comfortable with.

By the second year, the relationship between the two had smoothed over. They were comfortable with each other now, with Laura even now initiating touch. That was a big step forward for Logan. In his quest to find a school to properly accommodate his daughter, a mysterious email found its way to him. 

A boarding school in New York made for children like him and Laura. Professor Charles Xavier was a man known well in the supernatural world as a bridge between two parties. And known less by those in the natural world, as an eclectic educator and philanthropist for the occult. A man Logan had a history with, though brief.

Logan knew then that this was what he was looking for. When he brought this to Laura’s attention she agreed immediately. A school where she no longer had to hide who she was sounded like heaven to her. So off they went to New York. 

They were just one state border away, in a motel in Pennsylvania. Logan held a beer in his hand. It had gone warm already, but the can wasn’t open. He felt himself getting restless. He left the motel room with Laura behind, locked it, and grabbed a beer from the convenience store across the street. It had been autopilot for him, but the second he made it back to his door he felt shame. 

The second Christmas Logan had spent with Laura hadn’t been easier than the first. But that year she told him what she wanted.

"Got anything you want in mind?” Logan questioned her in early December. They were in his apartment. The one room was made to accommodate the both of them, with Laura getting the bedroom and Logan sleeping on a futon in the living room.

“… one thing,” she mumbled. She mumbled a lot like she wasn’t confident in her speaking. But Logan knew the truth was otherwise.

“What is it sweetheart, what can I get you?” Logan asked gently.

“… stop drinking.” She said.

That stung Logan much more painfully than any knife dipped in wolfsbane could have. There were nights when Logan came home stumbling and drunk after walking home from a bar. He knew then his daughter didn’t deserve that version of Logan. Each night he justified it, thinking Laura was safe, and that she could protect herself if she needed to. And worst yet, she didn’t need him anyway. 

But she did, and Logan saw that then. How much it affected Laura to see her new found father belligerent in the middle of the night. And here he did it again, with the same justifications. Laura was safe. Laura can protect herself. Laura didn’t need him. 

The can fizzed and popped as Logan crushed the beer in his hand. Silvery claws growing from his nail beds, hair growing thicker around his knuckles. He tossed the can into a bush, leaving the stain on the concrete, and heading inside. His pants, shoes, and hand smelled like beer. Tainted. 

He walked into the motel room as quietly as possible to not disturb Laura, but he knew he failed when he heard her breathing change. A sniff, a quiet sigh, and silence.

Disappointment hung in the air. But they said nothing. Even as he went to wash his hands in the bathroom. Or even as he lay down on the other bed in the room. Silence.

“… I’m sorry,” Logan whispered. He received no response.

They left early the next morning, little words were exchanged between the two but that was normal, but it didn’t feel normal to Logan then. Laura watched the sunrise on the horizon as they passed into New York.

It was then she asked, “How many?”

Logan’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I bought one. Didn’t drink it. I poured it out and threw the can away when I realized what I was doing.” Logan was learning to be honest, especially in situations like this.

“You didn’t drink?”

“No,” Logan said simply, and the conversation ended.

A few minutes later a light touch was felt on his arm. Two fingertips gently on skin as if petting a snapping turtle. The hand stayed there for a minute before retreating. It wasn’t much but it meant the world to Logan. Forgiveness. 

When they finally reached the city, the change in atmosphere was instant. The air was thick with smog, and the noise of the city penetrated the old pickup truck.

From beside Logan, he could see Laura covering her ears and nose as best as she could. Her senses were still sensitive, and no doubt overwhelming if Logan himself was starting to get choked out by the city. He knew this wouldn’t be forever, the school Laura was meant to go to was spacious and secluded. A perfect environment for a young pup to grow. 

“It’s alright sweetheart, it won’t be like this at the school, alright,” Logan reassured. From his peripheral he could see her nod in response, curled up in the front seat of the truck. 

Logan tried his best to focus on the road, but he felt helpless. He couldn’t help Laura, he didn’t know how. His grip tightened on the wheel as they drove further into the city. Logan tried to distract her, pointing at various adverts or buildings in the city. He was met with silence the further they got. 

“Laura? You hungry?” Logan asked. The traffic was starting to get heavy, and his patience was wearing thin.

He knew he needed to stop somewhere to find out where he needed to go next, a place to stay was most important. Laura didn’t speak, her hands still covering her ears, but she nodded in response. Quickly, Logan located a diner he could stop by and moved to make the stop. 

The diner was busy, just like everywhere else in the city. Across the booth, Logan could see Laura squirming. She was looking at everyone, everything. He knew she could smell all the food on the tables, and hear the sounds from the kitchen. It was a lot, even for Logan. He placed a hand down on the table between them, an offering. 

“Laura… Laura,” He tried to catch her attention. She turned her head and looked at him sharply. “It’s alright. How can… how can I help?” His hand reached further across the table. Laura shook her head. 

“Hello! I’m Kasey I’ll be your server today, here are your menus,” A waitress moved into the space suddenly. She placed the menus between them, offering Laura a kid's menu. 

“Thank you,” Logan said quickly before retracting his hand towards the menu.

“Would you like some crayons?” Kasey asked Laura with a sweet voice. She smelled like an artificial sweetness from her perfume. It poorly hid the scent of cigarette smoke and nicotine, but no inherent danger to her.

Laura frowned, then nodded at the waitress. Unfazed by the lack of response a small box of crayons was taken from her apron and presented to Laura.

“Here you go sweetheart, I’ll give you guys a few minutes to figure out what you’d like to order.” With a soft smile, Kasey exited the frame.

Logan took a moment to look at the menu, he wasn’t very hungry himself but he knew his daughter would be. Lifting his eyes from the menu he watched as Laura started to explore the paper in front of her. Little animal character outlines for her to draw in, as well as small games to entertain herself filled the page. meticulously, Laura took out each of the crayons from the small box and expected them. There were only four colors: blue, red, yellow, and green. A slight disappointment for Laura making them harder to organize.

“Why not line them up by favorite, hm?” Logan suggested. This satisfied her as she immediately picked up the red crayon. 

“… red. Green. Blue. Yellow.” She said, pointing at each color. 

“Why’s yellow last?” 

“Can’t see,” Laura said simply. 

“You know what you want?”

“No.”

“How about you circle them, with the crayons, and pick the favorite from the red?” Laura smiled at the thought and immediately went to work.

Kasey came to join them again. “Hello, can I start you off with some drinks?”

“I’ll just have a black coffee, do you know what you want Laura?” 

Laura considered for a moment, before pointing at the chocolate milk option. She still had a hard time talking with strangers. It wasn’t the best habit during school, but Logan saw no reason to correct her when she was with him. He knew she wasn’t doing it to be rude or dismissive, it was just how she communicated. 

“What’s that sweetheart?” Kasey leaned over to look at the page. Laura tapped again.

“The chocolate milk I think.” Logan offered.

“Oh! Of course, are you also ready to order food or do you need more time?”

“I’m not finished,” Laura said quietly. In a similar silence Logan celebrated on his head, Laura spoke to a stranger, for herself.

“That’s alright, how about you dad,” Kasey asked.

Startled, Logan took a second to respond. “Uh, no, no thank you I'm alright.” 

Kasey nodded before leaving the table. Logan looked at Laura who was once again consumed by her organization. He read a lot about reinforcement in affecting a child’s decision making. So he knew he should give Laura a metaphorical pat on the back.

“Good job, Laura.” There wasn’t much of a reaction to Logan, but he felt good telling her anyway.

Laura moved on to the games and puzzles on the paper. She paused on a section in the menu before grabbing the red crayon and rolling it towards Logan. He caught it gently, watching Laura silently. Laura picked up the blue crayon and drew an X on the paper. When her hand moved, Logan let himself smile for the first time in the past 2 days. She wanted to play tic tac toe and had given Logan her favorite crayon, he was elated. Logan drew his circle and waited for Laura to respond. She assesses her next move before drawing her x and smiling at Logan. They played three games, one of which he let Laura win because he felt bad before Kasey came back with their drinks. 

“Here we go, are we ready to order or do we need more time?” 

Logan turned to Laura. “What would you like?”

Laura seemed to consider all of the options, marked in red, before settling on the chicken tenders and waffles. Kasey was ready to read this time, leaning in and writing what Laura pointed at. 

“Perfect, what about dad here?”

“No, I'm alright." 

“Alright, coming right up!” Kasey smiled back at the both of them before leaving. 

Silence befell the two again as they enjoyed their drinks. A sense of calm washed over Logan as his craving for addiction quelled marginally. Caffeine was an old and faithful addiction of his that was encroaching into his newly sober life, as well as nicotine. Laura sipped at her chocolate milk box while reading her riddles. From the pocket of his leather jacket, Logan pulled out a written address of the apartment they were moving to. He suspected with the price as low as it was for a two bedroom apartment it was going to be crappy but he hoped it would be safe enough for Laura. When the food arrived Logan tried his best to figure out the best way to get there, while also reminding his daughter to at the very least use a fork in public. He asked Kasey for directions, which she kindly gave, and the Howletts left the diner to find their new home.

———

Logan was right, the building was crappy. The mix of exposed brick and concrete seemed less of an aesthetic choice and more of a natural result of decay from the building. Dangerous looking people filled the first floor and surrounded the building. He met the landlord at the door, third floor fourteenth room. 

“314, can you remember that, sweetheart?” Logan had said to Laura on the stairs. The elevator was out of commission.

Laura nodded, sticking closely to Logan as they went up the stairs.

“James Howlett?” The landlord asked. 

“Yes,” Logan said.

“And this your daughter?” 

“I’m here for the room,” Logan quickly moved the topic of conversation. He didn’t trust this man, he made his instincts scream "danger."

The man’s eyebrow raised before continuing. “Come in.” 

The apartment was small, but it had what they needed. The rooms smelled clean, neutral at the very least. Safe unclaimed territory for them, no matter how small.

“I’ll need the first month, last month, and deposit from you.” 

Logan reached into his pocket of his leather jacket and gave the landlord a wad of cash. “Here.”

A quick nod. “Stay out of trouble.” 

Logan was handed the keys to the apartment, he wasn’t expecting a tour. Logan watched the landlord leave before fully entering the apartment himself. 

He led Laura through the door and turned to her, “Stay here, I’m going to check the apartment alright?” 

Logan made sure the door was locked before looking around. He sniffs at every corner he can find. The apartment mostly smelled like dust, mold, and mildew. No recent claims on the territory, he thinks the last tenants might have been human. The drawers and cupboards were empty, except for a dead mouse he found under the sink. The bathroom had a forgotten needle hidden behind the toilet which was quickly flushed. Lastly, Logan inspected the bedrooms, now extra careful for any unwanted items. 

The rooms were cleared and Logan was able to let out a breath. Walking back into the living room he beckons Laura to explore the house. Immediately she begins touching and sniffing around. The walls were thicker with the brick and concrete making it easier to tune out other tenants. It wasn’t as loud here, which Logan suspects Laura appreciates. 

“You want to pick out your own room?” Logan calls out to Laura, who immediately runs over to check out the vacant rooms.

They were roughly the same size, only one of them slightly bigger than the other. Laura chose the smaller one, immediately rubbing her hands against the exposed brick wall. Logan stood at the doorway and watched Laura happily.

“You like this one?” It was a rhetorical question he wasn’t expecting an answer to. “Let’s get our stuff then, okay?”

Their “stuff” wasn’t much. Logan’s whole life fit into one duffle bag. Laura fit one school bag when Logan first met her. Over the last two years, they’ve successfully accumulated enough important possessions to fit into a combined 3 cardboard boxes. Each carefully and safely tucked away under a tarp in the trunk of their pickup truck. The Howletts grabbed their stuff (Laura had her backpack and insisted on carrying one box, while Logan carried the other two and his duffle bag) and headed back up to their new home.

Later that evening the futon was laid out for Laura in the living room while she colored in her book. In the kitchen, Logan looked for a place that hired around the city. He wasn’t picky about what he needed to do to provide for his daughter. Soft music played on Logan’s laptop while he sifted through newspapers and printed out help-wanted pages.

In the back of Logan’s mind, a thought itched its way back into the forefront. Something he hadn’t thought about in months and hadn’t done in two years. He looked over at Laura as guilt overcame him. He knew how to make a quick buck. He knew what he used to do for money. He berated himself. Underground cage fighting, and more specifically towards other werewolves.

He was treated like an animal there, like a beast in a zoo. But even the feral part of him felt free in that space. At this moment Logan craved that freedom again. Hesitation halted him when he imagined coming home to Laura beaten and bloodied.

She’s seen me worse, Logan thought to himself. But he knew that couldn’t be the bar he set himself on. He tabled the thought for the morning. It was late, and Laura needed to sleep.

“Alright Laura, come on time to get ready for bed,” Laura frowned. “No no don’t pout, I’ve already let you stay up an hour. C’mon.”

Logan ushered Laura into their nightly routine. When they were finished, Logan moved the futon to Laura’s new room. They couldn’t bring the mattress from the old apartment, but he was more than happy to sleep on the floor.

“… papa?” Laura called. She usually called Logan by his name or nothing at all, except when she was feeling particularly vulnerable. 

“What’s going on sweetheart,” Logan asked at the doorway. His hand was on the light switch ready to turn off.

“Stay.” She looked so small under the cover of her blanket.

“New place has you scared?” Laura shook her head furiously. Logan almost chuckled.

“Never scared.” 

“Alright, does the new place make you uncomfortable?” Logan received a small nod. “Okay. Your uh.. nightlight is in one of the boxes right now, do you need it?”

Again another shake of the head, but this was less confident.

“I’ll grab it just in case,” Logan scurried around and secured the crescent moon nightlight. He plugged the cool dim light into the outlet before turning off the overhead light. 

“Alright, I’ll be right here okay?” Another nod.

There was silence and then, “When can we shift again?”

Logan considered. “Probably not until the next Call.” 

The Call, or the Call to the Moon was the stereotypical lycanthropic lunar circle. It wasn’t as uncontrollable as mortal retellings misinterpret. The myth comes from observing younger wolves who lack the resolve to ignore the Call, like Laura.

“Will we run?”

“Probably not here.” He knew that saddened her, but she said nothing else.

Logan felt sleep calling him while lying on the floor next to the futon. Finally safe with his daughter.

———

The clock on the wall ticked incessantly. Skid marks and cracks surrounded the area where Logan tried to hit it with a shoe. Logan was very clearly drunk that night. He sat on the couch dozing off at 3 am had just come back from the bar, and a bag of frozen peas covered his eye from the cage fight earlier that night. The bedroom door opened, and Laura peeked her head out. It had been two months since Laura moved in, and Logan's fights have become more aggressive. He needed the money to support himself and Laura, the drinking didn't help.

“What? Go back to sleep.” Logan groaned from his seat.

Ignoring his words, Laura sat down next to Logan on the couch. She said nothing to him, clutching his sleeve and glaring at him intensely. 

“The fuck do you want?” Logan slurred.

“Bed.” 

“Yeah, go.” 

A sharp tug at his sleeve. “Bed.”

“No, Laura. Just go.” Logan tries to tug his arm out of her grip. 

Laura lets go, and a desperate look covers her face. “Please. Is dark.”

“The fuck you want me to do? Just-- go!” His voice raised. Laura visibly flinched away as Logan motioned towards the bedroom. His stomach dropped. He hated the thought of his daughter being afraid of him.

"... You’re mean,” was all she said before walking back into the bedroom. The light clicked on behind the door a second later. 

Logan woke up with a gasp. It was still dark outside, but the sun was starting to paint the sky. He looked over to where Laura was sleeping and let out a sigh. She was right, he was a mean when he was drunk. He had gotten that nightlight the next day as an apology. She didn’t speak to him for a week.

It was hard those days. He knew he was so ill-prepared to take care of a child and yet the thought of someone’s taking her away gripped him with powerful anxiety. Logan went to knock out once again, finding peace in Laura’s safety.

Chapter Text

Don’t let anyone tell you that Wade Wilson doesn’t pay attention. Does he listen? Often he won’t, but he pays attention. Specifically to change. And something did change. The previously vacant neighboring apartment was no longer vacant. And unlike the previous tenants who were loud and possibly addicts like many people in the building, these new residents were awfully quiet.

“Hey Al, you hear the new neighbors come in,” Wade asked curiously. He was sitting on the floor in front of their TV looking at the door. Wade had heard them moving in earlier that day. He didn’t listen to their conversation, but the new addition of heartbeats piqued his interest.

“We got new neighbors? Shit, I'm surprised they still advertised that place. It smelt like a crack pipe in there,” Althea grumbled as she listened to her “stories” on the TV. “Pretty sure the last folks died in that apartment.”

“You would know,” Wade quipped. “What do you say to welcoming in the new neighbors, huh?”

“I say let them get used to the place before they get infested with roaches. And I do mean you Wade.”

Wade gasped. “You wound me.”

Althea didn’t pleasure Wade with a response. He smiled to himself as he tuned in to the sounds of the building, the discordant symphony of heartbeats was oddly soothing to him. He could hear the rats in the walls and the skittering of bugs along the cracks. Wade listened to the new neighbors’ heartbeats, one had a strong rhythm that was powerful and deep. He stopped listening in when the heartbeats started to slow to a resting rate. Bored, Wade turned to Althea only to be disappointed in seeing her asleep on the couch. 

“I’m not carrying you to your bed, Al,” Wade kicked her foot. 

A startled snort woke her up. “Motherfucker- get off me!” A hand wildly swatted at the air where Wade used to be. Instead, he had distracted himself by cooing at Mary Puppins. 

“Over here,” Wade called out. 

“You- whatever, I’m going to bed,” Althea grumbled as she walked off into her room. 

Wade rocked Mary in his arms like a baby as he walked towards the kitchen. Under the sink was a minifridge filled with bags of blood. All of the packets were from a blood donation lab that gave Wade the bags that were about to expire. A kind nurse had given him mercy during his first few years as a vampire, and he was able to fully strike a deal with the lab. Carefully, Wade inspected the one he grabbed, poured it out into a specific cup, and gulped it down quickly. Mary was calmly asleep in his arms as he went to clean up after his “meal.” He settled Mary down into her dog bed, kissed her on the head, and went to get himself ready for his job. After showering to get the smell of blood and death off of him, Wade silently took off.

Because he could no longer reliably function as a merc, nor did he want to, Wade began working at the bar for Sister Margaret’s at night. Weasel took pity on him when he found out about his ailment and took him in as a wage slave like the supportive friend he was. Wade couldn’t have thanked him enough.

“What’ll it be pookiebear?” Wade leaned against the bar with his chin in his hands as he saw his second favorite customer.

“Whiskey. And you know not to call me that,” Cable grumbled.

“Alright sugarplum,” Wade giggled to himself as he poured Cable his drink.

The supernatural was a bit of an open secret as of the last century. Especially in big cities. The political climate around them was still rocky, but, as the old myths became more and more fantastical, and as the supernatural started to assimilate, the situation became a lot more gray. Hot spots like Sister Margaret’s pulled in dozens of supernatural beings together. Like Wade and his vampireness, and Cable and his werewolfness, or Dopinder and his… Dopinderness. Dopinder was a human and a good friend of Wade’s who just attached to him. 

“Hello, Mr Cable!” Dopinder greeted happily. He only received a grunt as Cable took a sip from his drink.

“Don’t let this bigot bring you down Dopinder, you deserve the same amount of respect as anyone else,” Wade huffed.

“Shut the fuck up, Wilson,” Cable grumbled.

A knock from the other side of the bar counter called him. “I will not be silenced for standing up for what is right!” Wade slowly moved to the other side of the bar. “Stay strong Dopinder!”

“Thank you, Wade! Don’t worry Mr. Cable I do not think you are a racist,” Dopinder reassured kindly before going on his way to mop up a new spill somewhere.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Miss Manager in chief. I guess I know who to look for when I go all Karen,” Wade teased as Vanessa sat down.

“Oh please, if you did I’d figure out a way to kill you myself,” Vanessa smiled warmly.

Wade and Vanessa’s relationship had been struggling for a while. Only recently did they start regularly keeping in contact. Complications between Wade’s self-destructive tendencies and the actual self-destruction broke both of them for the longest time. Creating a cavernous void in Wade’s heart. Now partially filled with the reblossomed friendship with Vanessa.

“How are you feeling Wade? You eat?” Vanessa asked gently.

“Sipped on a fruit punch capri sun before work. Type A today, I'm feeling extra douchie.” 

“Anything interesting happen?”

Wade shrugged. “Oh nothin’, some new neighbors moved in today though. Surely that’ll have no lasting impact on the plot.”

“Are you being sarcastic or are you B rolling again?” So far only Vanessa had been able to take notice of Wade’s “fourth wall breaks.” Most of the people around him ignore it and chop it up to him being crazy, which he was, but no one handled it with care like Vanessa.

“Oooh, I‘ll never tell!” Wade giggled mischievously.

The bar was cleared out before sunrise. Wade mopped, restocked, and wiped down tables just enough to keep the aesthetic layer of grime and blood before clocking out. 

The sun didn’t affect Vampires like in the myth. Wade wouldn’t burst into holy fire in the face of a sunbeam, but it wasn’t enjoyable for him either. Wade usually covered up with a heavy jacket with a hood to cover his skin. He was often cold because of his affliction, so it provided an excellent excuse during the warmer months.

When Wade got back to the apartment building, he prepared himself for another trek up the stairs to his floor. A sudden force bumped him on the shoulder when he wasn’t paying attention.

“Holy jumpcut,” Wade mumbled.

———

“Sorry bub, Laura c’mon,” Logan called out over his shoulder. 

He pat the man on the arm and continued down the stairs. It was hard to not react to the pungent smell that emanated from him, but Logan just assumed the man was going through something and decided to mind his business.

Laura trailed closely behind him glaring at the poor man as he walked away. She hasn’t been particularly pleased this morning. An early wake up, without breakfast, the discomfort of a new place, and even worse yet: wearing socks on a “no sock day.” Laura was very particular about how and when she wanted to wear socks and unfortunately, today was a day Logan could not compromise.

“Laura- L- no, Laura you can’t wear sandals today,” Logan said.

“No.”

“Laura please just put the socks on, you can’t wear open shoes where we’re going.”

“Itchy.”

“I know they’re itchy but we have to try, for today at least, please?” Logan pleaded as he tried to grab onto Laura’s foot to force the sock on.

That was unfortunately the wrong choice. Laura started to squirm, kick, and scream to hinder Logan’s mission. 

Neither of them were happy this morning, and as they sat down at a diner for breakfast the tension at the table was palpable. Logan avoided Laura’s glare for as long as he could. He didn’t want to engage in a stare-down in the middle of a diner and deal with the consequences if she felt threatened by the challenge. 

Logan found bleak humor in the irony that everything how found strange in raising Laura had been direct reflections of himself. He often wore tank tops instead of shirts to curb the sensory hell of some of his clothing. Including the flannel he wore today, one of his nicer ones he barely wore because it was stiff and made mostly of polyester. 

Logan found an address for a job and decided to check in on the position that day to receive an application. Because he had no one to watch Laura, she had to come with him. 

This diner didn’t have the fun kids menu the other had. There was nothing to distract Laura from her festering anger and stimulation overload from the city. A time bomb waiting to explode.

“Laura, I know you’re upset. But can we please, just get through the day,” Logan asked quietly after they ordered. This was followed by a growl from her. “Laura. Don’t. Not right now.”

Logan’s eyes flicked up to stare at her, meeting her eyes for the first time. Fortunately, instead of feeling threatened and lashing out, she tore her gaze away and sipped on her chocolate milk. She was still uncomfortable but unwilling to make a scene. 

The rest of their morning went without further complications. So did the interview, who almost immediately gave Logan an application and hired him on the spot. It was a family-owned business that seemed to be going slightly under, working on older model cars and motorcycles. Logan was only relieved to be able to work. It was later in the afternoon when the Howletts were able to settle in the pickup truck. They had nothing else scheduled for the day, and Logan let himself breathe a sigh of relief at the freedom. He felt Laura take his arm towards her, momentarily amazed by the display of initiated touch, Logan was surprised when Laura grabbed his hand and bit him. 

“Ah! Laura!’ Logan startled. The bite wasn’t powerful enough to break the skin, mainly for pressure. Laura had a point to prove and she intended to let it out. “Laura we talked about this- ah- stop biting me!” 

Logan wretched his hand away from Laura’s mouth and watched her. She was breathing heavily, and roughly growling to herself. Covering her ears, before hitting the dashboard or even her legs. Something, anything to get the energy out. Logan knew everything was too much, so he said nothing as Laura tried her best to express it. He knew she didn’t want to hurt him, he’d know if she did. But, pain crept into his heart as he could do nothing but watch his daughter suffer. 

When the commotion ceased, Laura flopped down across the bench of the front seats and put her head on Logan’s lap. Logan put a hand in her hair as she sobbed silently, covering her ear with his hand. 

“I want to go home,” And Logan knew she didn’t mean the apartment.

“I know.” They sat in silence for a while.

“...I’m sorry I bit you.”

“It’s alright.”

Laura eventually sat up in her seat looking drained. Silently, Logan started up the car and drove back to their new home. On the way back, Logan’s eye caught briefly on a wide open space where people were walking their dogs. A dog park. Logan hummed to himself in interest.

“Laura? You up?” Logan knocked on Laura’s door. The door was open, and he could see Laura on the futon where she went to take a nap. 

“...Yes,” Laura said quietly.

“You wanna run?” This seemed to perk her up. Her head raised to look at him. 

“Yeah…”

“We’ll leave late okay?” Laura nodded happily before getting up and moving around.

At nine they were outside the dog park, further away to not be caught by potential cameras. Logan sniffed around to make sure no one was around to witness them. They both shifted as hidden as they could away from the lights, before jumping the fence of the locked dog park. It was much quieter at night, of course not silent but not as overstimulating for Laura. 

Logan could feel her excitement here. The little wolf, her coat as dark brown as her father’s, pranced and raced around the park happily. The park was small and had much to improve upon, but it was good enough to make Laura happy. Logan’s wolf form was much larger than Laura’s, but he suspected that she would be able to grow as big as him when she was older. His snout had started to silver a little, but it was no indication of his energy as he raced with Laura. 

The thought came across him as he played ‘tag,’ this was the first time he had played with Laura. Usually, she was content to run around by herself in the forests when they both lived in North Dakota their first year together. But here, she initiated it. She wanted Logan to join her.

When they were in the car driving back home, Logan had to struggle to keep his emotions at bay. He was happy, immensely so at how far Laura had come to trusting him. Logan gently carried her back up the stairs to their apartment.

———

Wade looked over his shoulder as he heard them walking up. The new neighbors were walking back into their apartment, with the man’s daughter knocked out in his arm. Wade hadn’t noticed this morning, but the man he ran into was the new neighbor. The quiet nature of the two was further explained by the brooding presence the mystery man presented. 

“Cute,” Wade said quietly, but loud enough apparently to catch the man’s attention. 

And oh, did Wade not want to lose it. Tall, broad, dark, and brooding, this was truly everything Wade had wanted out of a man. And on top of all this, the mystery man seemed to be a good father, which sent a flare of heat up Wade's spine. What attracted Wade further was his heart. It was powerful like he heard before. The resonance of the beat made Wade’s teeth rattle in his skull. 

“Yeah,” He responded quietly. Wade had nearly scratched his door when he heard the bass his his voice. 

“My name’s Wade. I’m your new neighbor,” He started shyly.

He only received a raised eyebrow and a gruff “goodnight” before the mystery man hid behind his door. Wade let out a sigh and knocked his head against his door. This wasn’t his best work, he’d admit, but he was caught off guard. If he had met this Mysterious Hunk at the bar or even at a park he would have been able to charm the socks off him. Or at least annoy him enough to score a hate fuck, he’s done it before. 

With his tail tucked between his legs, much like Mary Puppins, Wade made his way down the three flights of stairs to Sister Margaret’s. 

Chapter Text

“How’s it goin’,” Vanessa asks Wade as she walks into the bar. 

“I met the new neighbor today, and I totally flubbed it,” Wade said, leaning on the bar toward her.

“Why what happened?” Vanessa frowned and gave Wade her full attention. 

“Well first of all before you judge, the guy was a total hottie. I wasn’t on my A-game,” Wade defended. “Tall, handsome, looked like he’d punch me in the face at any given moment-”

“Oh sounds like your type-” Vanessa interrupts.

“Exactly! He looked like a lumberjack- built like one too, he was carrying his kid like it was nothing,” Wade described passionately.

“Ooh a dilf,” Vanessa’s excitement heightened. “How did you flub?”

“Well, I was walking out to get here. I wasn’t expecting a grade-A dilf to walk up. Plus, he looked tired. I honestly don’t think he wanted to talk to anyone,” Wade grumbled. "I just stood there like an idiot, saying, ‘Hi, my name’s Wade. I’m your new neighbor.’ I could have done so much better.”

“Then do better,”

“What?”

“I don’t know, invite him over for a drink, make him cookies or something,” Vanessa suggested.

“I don’t think Al’s oven has seen anything other than pots or cocaine in five years,” Wade quipped. 

“If you want to get to know the guy, try. I’d be careful though, Wade, if he’s got a kid I wouldn’t expect him to trust easily with the neighborhood we live in,” 

“What’s wrong with our neighborhood?” From behind Vanessa, a progressing argument between two patrons quickly escalated to a full fight. With a pleading look from Wade, Buck solemnly walked away from his drink to grab the two drunkards and throw them out. 

“This is a wonderful place. So homey,” Wade gave a stiff smile. 

“Just try, Wade. It can be a good opportunity for you. If you can manage to have someone you can open up to that isn’t me, or Al, or your dog.”

“Mary Puppins is a very good listener, she came to me for protection.”

“I’m pretty sure you stole her.”

“I haven’t seen any missing posters. Have you?” Wade defended, and Vanessa only chuckled. 

“You got this Wade,” Vanessa’s hand was gently placed over Wade’s. 

“... I’ll try… I promise,” Wade said softly. There wasn’t anyone else in the world who could break Wade’s walls down like Vanessa. Wade could still feel the love between them. But that love has evolved, and Wade couldn’t be more happy to still have her in his life. 

“Good. Now pour me a drink Red,” 

“You got it!”

The kitchen was a catastrophe. Pots littered every surface, flour covered the floors, and Wade looked like a powdered donut. This was Wade’s third attempt at making a batch of cookies. After his shift at Sister Margaret’s, he immediately went to a grocery store to grab all the ingredients to make cookie dough. He was determined to do this right. He’d be damned if he introduced himself to his neighbor with storebought cookie dough. No. Wade was going to show this Mystery Man that he could do things right. 

It was unfortunately taking a while to get there. His first batch came out looking like coals because Wade got distracted watching Kitchen Nightmares and didn’t set a timer. The second batch had too much flour and came out looking too puffy. Wade needed them to be perfect. So there he was, sitting in front of the oven and watching the little pastries rise through the window. The door to the apartment opened, and Althea and Mary were walking in from their evening walk. 

“The hell did you burn?” Al grumbled. 

“Cookies,” Wade said, his eyes didn’t come off the glass.

“That oven still works?”

“Yup.”

Al settled herself on the couch with Mary on her lap. The timer rang and Wade immediately got up to take the cookies out. He put the baking tray on top of the stove to cool and inspected each one. They were good, not great, but good. They were cookies, and they seemed edible. Food did nothing for Wade, but he found the experience of eating food to be enjoyable.

“Could you pass me one,” Althea called out.

“These aren’t for you! These are for the neighbors,” Wade took his eyes off the cookies for the first time.

“Jackass,” Althea mumbled, which of course Wade heard. Wade decided that he’d save Althea one for later, determining himself a good and caring roommate.

Once the cookies were cooled and packed away in a tupperware, Wade was finally able to relax. He sat next to Al who was now watching Bar Rescue and let out a sigh. Mary Puppins happily yipped and crawled over Althea to join him. 

“Kisses? You want kisses? C’mere baby girl,” Wade gently grabbed her planting kisses on her tiny rat head. 

“Oh god that sounds wet,” Al complained. 

“Very,” Wade sighs. “Can I tell you something, Al?”

“No.”

“I really am nervous meeting the new neighbor,” Wade continued. “I mean, what if he doesn’t like me?”

“You met him too?”

“Yeah… wait what do you mean too?” Wade questioned. 

“I met him this morning when I went to walk Mary. He’s a sweet boy, husky too,” Althea giggled to herself.

“Ew. I mean I agree, but ew.”

“I dropped my keys and he helped me find them. He said his name was James, I let his daughter pet Mary, but she got mean on the poor girl. Ruining my chances,” Althea complained.

Wade stared at her blankly. “Uh huh… and what do you mean by ‘mean’? Mary Puppins is the sweetest little girl in the whole wide world!”

“She peed in my slides.”

“You probably deserved it. Anyway, you just gave me an excuse to give him these cookies, thank you.”

“What are you nervous about anyway?” Althea asked. 

“It’s just… It’s someone new. A blank slate. Everyone in my life right now I have met during possibly the worst string of years of my life so far. Everybody at the bar knows who and what I am, you know what I am, and Vanessa,” Wade’s voice cracked at the end. “...I fucked that up. And you know maybe I want a friend that isn’t a dog or a blind recovering coke addict,”

“Not by choice,” Al grumbled. 

“We quit together, it's called taking initiative. I cleaned your puke you should be nicer to me,” Wade deflected. 

“I think you can do it,” Althea said suddenly.

“...really?”

“Yeah, why not. I still put up with you. I trust you well enough not to drink me like a juice pouch,”

“You’d taste disgusting,” Wade’s mouth curled. 

“Just be yourself. Maybe a little less, that poor boy seemed stressed.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“I’m just being honest. Now be quiet I want to watch my stories,” Althea leaned back in her seat on the couch and grabbed the remote to click on the pre-saved channel. 

Wade leaned on her shoulder gently, semi-cuddling with Mary in his arms. He let Althea’s words sink in. They weren’t graceful pieces of wisdom but they were in a similar spirit to Vanessa’s ‘do it.’ Confidence befell Wade as he thought of his script. He needed this to be right, he wanted to prove to himself that he could let people in. He didn’t want to be those bitter and messy vampires that looked at the face of eternity and hid in their coffins from the world. Wade desperately craved normalcy and he hoped he could start to achieve it. 

When evening came Wade was already listening for James's heartbeat. Bum Bum Bum. The powerful thrash of moving blood sent a shiver down Wade’s spine. 

I wonder what he tastes like, a carnal part of him thought. His stomach quivered before Wade stopped himself. This was a good indicator to Wade to feed sooner rather than later. Even in undeath Wade’s hunger cues never seemed to show up until he was aching to feed. Wade quickly got himself a cup and a packet, drained the cup, and sat down for about thirty minutes to center himself. When he felt like he was ready, Wade brushed his mouth thoroughly to get the blood from his teeth and grabbed the cookies. He stood outside the door to the neighbor's apartment and let out a calming breath. 

“Maximum effort.” 

------

"C’mon,” Logan grumbled as he got out of the pickup. 

This was Laura’s sixth moon with Logan. Their moods have mostly calmed, and their relationship steadily became stronger. Every full moon since Laura started shifting, Logan would take Laura to a patch of woods to allow her to run around. It was good for her. 

This moon he was tense, the neighbors started talking about seeing a Wolf around nosing at trash cans every moon. There were mentions about getting someone to ‘take care’ of it. The way they spoke about Laura sent a chill down Logan’s spine. They spoke like they knew it wasn’t a regular wolf, they were trying to weed them out. Logan didn’t like that. 

“Alright Laura, listen to me,” Logan got down on a knee to level with her. “Stay where I can hear you, don’t go too crazy with the howling, and- Laura pay attention- stay away from people and stay away from the houses.”

All Logan received was a scowl. She was jittery, all she wanted at that moment was to shift and run away. 

“I need you to tell me you understand, Laura,” A nod. That was the best he was going to get now. “Alright, go.” 

Laura immediately ran off behind the trees. Logan leaned against his pickup and kept an ear out for Laura. He couldn’t drink when he was driving, especially with Laura in the car. So he reached into his pocket where he kept his lighter and his cigarette pack, and began to smoke.

By the end of the hour, half the pack was on the ground as burnt-out nubs. Logan could only be described as a chimney, chain-smoking cigarettes back to back.

“I gotta switch back to cigars,” Logan grumbled to himself. His ear twitched as he heard a rustle from where Laura was. “Goddamnit with that goddamn trash can, Laura.”

Before Logan could snub out his cigarette to tear the curious wolf away from where she was supposed to be, he heard a tinny click. Metal on metal. Silver. Wolfsbane. Gunpowder. Logan had shifted and ran towards it before he could process what he was doing. 

He had to get to Laura. He had to protect her. Keep the bad men away. She wasn’t doing anything, she was just a kid, she just wanted to play. Logan barreled towards Laura who was innocently sniffing at a raccoon.

“Get to the car. Now,” Logan growled. Laura whined where she stood but yelped when Logan took her by the scruff and moved her. The hunters were closing in. They had to move.

Logan tried to outrun the hunters and get to the truck before they could find them. But they were surrounded. Hunters and neighbors started to close in on the wolves.

“Look at that. We got two of 'em boys,” one hunter whistled. 

“Wonder who these freaks are,” another chirped. He seemed frightened as Logan growled deeply.

From behind him, Laura was pressed up against him. She was shaking. She smelled like fear and anger. Logan didn’t want to kill them, they were his community. Colleagues, friends, family. Even Laura’s 4th grade teacher. They were afraid of them, afraid of what they could mean to them. They did nothing to threaten them. But they were different, they weren’t natural. That was threatening enough.

“Are- are you sure Travis? That one looks like a pup,” Laura’s teacher, Mr. Bowler, questioned.

“They’ll kill you the second they get a chance. There’s an infestation of them, Matty, these are just the unlucky bastards that got caught. Pump em full of sil-“Before Travis could finish speaking Logan lunged.

“Run Laura!” That was all he could growl out before attacking. His silver claws slashed at skin, but not to kill.

Logan wasn’t a regular werewolf. Many would have died or have been severely injured if silver or wolfsbane came in contact with them. But to Logan, it was just a major inconvenience. He was in a rare genetic group of Werewolves that grew immunity to most weapons crafted against them. In his unfortunate case, genetic engineering made him immune to virtually everything. Including age. And getting shot in the face with hundreds of silver pellets. 

He just needed to distract them, keep them here, away from Laura before running himself. Logan looked at Matthew Bowler, so far the only person to not fire, and he pleaded. With shaky hands, Bowler shot towards the sky, hitting a tree branch and sending it crashing onto the ground. In the distraction, Logan charged off in to the opposite direction of Laura, before circling back around to the car.

Laura was there, terrified and unshifted. She was shaking, hiding under the truck. 

“L…Laura,” she immediately crawled out.

“Papa!” She raced towards him.

Logan limped and hunched over. “Get in the car.”

“Hurt!” She cried. Logan immediately stopped.

“Where? Where are you hurt? Show me!”

“No me! You! Hurt!” She gestured to the blood staining his shirt.

“I’m okay, get in the car, okay. Quickly.” 

They drove back home again as fast as they could, snuck back into their apartment, and locked the door. Logan sat in the tub all night, pushing the silver pellets out of his skin. Laura slept on the floor beside him, refusing to leave.

Logan woke up with a gasp. It was early morning again. He always hated that memory, it always woke him up in a cold sweat. But looking over to Laura reassured him. They’re safe. The sweet moment of Laura calling him her dad for the first time was undercut by the chaos that night.

She had apologized millions of times no matter how much Logan tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault. He scolded himself, he should have never left her alone, they should have never left the house. He sent her to class that next morning to not raise suspicion, but she was clearly still shaken. Logan had a moment of eye contact with Mr. Bowler. For a second he looked surprised, then guilty. Before quickly looking over to Laura and looking mournful.

Laura told him Mr. Bowler didn’t show up for a month after that incident. The hunting never stopped, and Laura was too afraid to go back into the woods alone.

Logan needed to get his mind off of things. He rose off the floor and walked to the bathroom. There he followed his routine: brush his teeth, wash his face, brush his hair. He did it about three times. By the end, his teeth felt stripped of their enamel, his skin was dry, and his hair was thoroughly brushed. 

In the shower, he practically peeled his skin off. Scrubbing his skin with a washcloth over and over. The hot water beating bullets against Logan’s back, it felt like his skin was boiling off. By the time he dressed himself in his own room and walked back into Laura’s room, she was awake. She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“Morning, wanna walk around the neighborhood today or are we still tired?” Logan received a nod before Laura was getting ready herself. 

As Logan looked out the window, he could see that the streets weren’t as crowded yet in the early morning. It was Saturday, he hoped that meant the streets wouldn’t be as loud until late in the evening. But the weather was nice, the temperature was starting to cool with the change of the season. 

The walk was nice with the neighborhood being moderately more quiet than usual. Logan was glad to see Laura enjoy herself. He took her to a playground that was nearby, there were only about two kids on it when they went there. 

“Go ahead, and be nice,” Be gentle, was what Logan actually meant. Laura had a tendency to play rough, which Logan could handle. Human children? Not so much.

Laura nods and races off to the slides. Satisfied, Logan walks over to a bench to sit at and watch her. Logan sighed, and let himself relax for just a fraction of a second. 

“Hello!” 

Oh God. Logan looked over to the voice in front of him. A blonde woman with a large smile and a sleep-deprived look in her eye stood in front of him. She smelled human, she was in no way a danger to Logan or Laura. This wasn’t what concerned Logan, what concerned him was the possibility of small talk. Logan’s worst enemy.

“Hello,” he tried his most polite smile that no doubt just made him look constipated. 

She sat down on the bench next to him. Fuck, Logan thought to himself. A minute of silence. 

“Is that your daughter?” 

“Yes,” Logan responded.

“She’s so adorable, looks just like you,” another beat of silence. “That’s my son she’s playing with. His name is Timmy.”

Lady please, Logan mentally begged. “That’s nice.”

“What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Laura.”

“Oh, that's lovely. My name is Bethany by the way.”

Kill me right now, today. “James.”

“You new to the neighborhood?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you from?”

“Dakota.”

“North or South?’

“Middle.”

“Oh?” That seemed to stump her. “Well if you need a guide around the nei-”

Before Bethany could finish, Laura came racing down the playset towards Logan. She seemed distinctly disgusted by whatever the blond demon child, Timmy, seemed to have done. “Home.”

Thank fuck. “Alright. Uh, sorry, it was nice to meet you.” Logan lied through his teeth. 

“Oh, well alright! See you around,” She waved as the pair walked off.

“Thank you, so much Laura,” Logan praised.

“He was annoying” Laura sneered. “I wanted to push him. I didn’t.” Undoubtedly a high level of self-control was issued. 

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” Logan smiled down at Laura. Laura reached for Logan’s hand as they walked back to the apartment. He gladly took it and held her hand gently. 

Nothing else happened until they reached the lower floor of their apartment. An old woman with a dog was seen cursing and mumbling as she traced her cane around. Logan lnew he couldn’t walk past and not try to help.

So, through gritted teeth he asked politely, “Hello? Ma’am, do you need help?”

“Yes, I dropped my keys somewhere near these damn stairs. My damn dog tripped me up and I lost them,” The old woman gripped. 

Logan looked down at the dog in question, it looked like it was on its last leg. It looked at Laura and shook violently with rage and barked, or tried to, at her. Laura snarled back before Logan guided her away. It was then he noticed that this elderly woman was blind. He wondered who was taking care of her. 

“Mary, quit that!”

“It’s alright, I’ll help,” Logan looked at the ground and quickly grabbed the keys on the floor. “Here you are, do you need help up.”

The blind woman grasped at Logan’s arm before grabbing the keys, pausing as she gripped his bicep. “Oh, why I would very much appreciate it, young man. I’m Althea.”

Logan chuckled. “I’m James, I’m with my daughter.”

Logan walked with Althea practically glued onto his arm. Althea lived right across from him in 315, the same apartment as the guy who tried to make small talk with him earlier that evening. 

“Alright, this is your apartment. Are you alone? Or do you have someone who's taking care of you?”

Her mood soured quickly. “No, I’m not alone. Wade should be back from work soon.”

Wade must have been the man from last night. “Is Wade your…?”

“A nuisance,” Althea said dryly. “But, thank you, James. You’re very kind.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Would your daughter like to pet Mary?”

Logan looked over at Laura who was engaging in a staring contest with the distressed cotton ball of a dog. “Go ahead.”

A shaky hand reached out as Mary yipped and shook in place. She calmed down once the hand was actually on her and discovered that she did want pets from this werewolf stranger. 

“I’m sorry she’s usually nicer,” Althea said.

“It’s alright, we’ve never been good with dogs.”

“I won’t keep you held up, you’re welcome for tea anytime, sweetheart,” Althea chuckled to herself as she waltzed into her apartment. 

Laura waited until the door shut to speak. “... she smelled like dust.”

“Laura…”

Chapter Text

Logan and Laura were having a calm evening. They sat together on the futon in Laura’s room watching cartoons on Logan’s laptop. It was an old brick of a thing, with the battery overheating after twenty minutes of use. But, it kept Laura entertained. Logan wasn’t privy to the new age of cartoons and children’s entertainment, he often felt like his eyes were bleeding from the saturation. But he’d happily suffer if it got Laura to cuddle up to him again like she was now. He’s noticed her choice of entertainment tended to be for a younger intended audience. Logan wasn’t sure if he was meant to be concerned by this or to let it happen. 

Laura was quietly watching with intense focus, a piece of her hair was in her mouth as she chewed. Logan gently pulled her hair away from her mouth, encouraging her to twirl it with her finger instead. He’s had a shocking amount of hairball scares he wanted to avoid in the future.

“What’s this called again?” Logan asked.

“...paw patrol,” Laura said. 

Logan hummed before continuing to watch. Logan started to feel his eyes drooping before hearing a knock at the door. Laura immediately paused the cartoon and froze. Logan’s sense of hearing wasn’t as good as it used to be, but he could hear whoever was at the door mumbling to himself if he strained. His sense of smell was much better, identifying the man as the neighbor he awkwardly talked to last evening. He smelled like death and disease. 

“It’s alright Laura. Keep watching alright,” Logan reassured her. He got up to leave the room. “Stay here.”

Logan got to the door just as the second knock came. It was urgent, but jittery.  “Hello?” He could hear the neighbor call out through the door. 

Logan opened the door and gave the man a once-over. He’s holding a container in his hand and had a plastered on grin. The man looked sickly, his close-cropped hair was slightly patchy, his clothes hung awkwardly, and his eye sockets were gaunt. But there was a cool edge of perfection to him. But among all things that concerned Logan about this man, the one that frightened him the most, was the existence of small talk. He stunted the flow of conversation so devastatingly the other night because of this. 

“Howdie doodie neighbor,” Logan watched him physically cringe at his own words. “I… I wanted to be a good appreciative neighbor and fully welcome you into this crack den- God I shouldn’t say that you have a kid.”

“What?” Logan was confused and very guarded at the mention of Laura. 

“I’m so sorry. Hold on, let me start over,” The man physically turned himself around, sighed, and then turned himself around. “Hello, my name is Wade. I’m your new neighbor.”

“This was previously established, yes,” Logan stilted.

“Right! Yes, well, you helped my mom this morning, and I wanted to show my appreciation!” Wade exclaimed.

“Your mother is Althea?” 

“Mhm,” Wade nodded. “I was a mistake.”

Logan blinked. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s why she adopted me,” Wade said solemnly.

“Oh… I feel like you buried the lead there.”

“A little bit,” Wade chuckled to himself. “Anyways, I made these for you and your kid, to say thank you. They’re chocolate chip cookies so if you have any allergies you can just throw them out.”

Logan looked at the tupperware in Wade’s hands. “Thank you.” He took the box that was offered to him gently. Wade’s genuine smile brightened as he watched Logan take it. 

“Well, if you need anything you know where I live,” Wade stepped back. ”It’s James right?” 

“Yeah,” Logan said.

“Good night, James,” Wade waved before turning to his apartment.

Logan closed the door and walked into the kitchen, he placed the tupperware on the counter and sniffed the box. It smelt like Wade and Althea, Logan assumed he hadn’t lied about knowing her. He could smell the cookies even without opening the container, it was smoky like something had previously burned in the process.

Laura padded out from her bedroom as soon as Logan opened the container. With another sniff, Logan was confident about the cookie not being poisoned. He picked up a cookie, bit it, and let it sit on his tongue for a second before chewing. It was simply, a normal chocolate chip cookie. It wasn’t the best cookie in the world but safe. Laura brought Logan’s hand down to sniff the cookie before biting it herself. She looked at Logan with wide, curious eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, you know the rules,” Logan stated. No sweets around bedtime, a rule he implemented after a particularly harrowing Halloween night. But Laura’s big round eyes crumbled his resolve. “… fine you can finish this one, but I’m putting the rest away.”

Logan almost regretted it after watching Laura shift into a devilish smirk and snatch the cookie in her tiny hands. Logan watched as she hid in her room to eat the cookie. Laura had a tendency towards food aggression from time to time. They’ve been working on it together, and Laura has started to express less of the behavior. Sometimes she defaults back to certain behaviors she had to adapt towards. Thankfully, Laura’s aggression has decreased from biting to simply hiding away. 

It reminded Logan of when he was younger. Running across the country with his brother, fighting for scraps while he could. The hunger that would take him, and the uncertainty. Logan hated thinking about what Laura would have gone through without him. He put the container in the fridge, setting a reminder to get groceries the next day. While getting ready for bed, Logan thought of ways to thank the neighbor.

———

Hunger. He was just so hungry. But he couldn’t eat, food did nothing. Wade tried to gorge himself on scraps and rotted food from back alley trash cans. Anything to get rid of the hunger.

He was scared. A year of his life had gone missing. It was all a blank black void filled with carnage and bliss. And fear. And hunger. 

He needed comfort. He needed to see Vanessa and tell her that he was alive. He made it into their apartment before the sun came up. The sun hurt now, his skin would welt and swell like a rash or a horrible sunburn. 

Wade found her sleeping. He was quiet, he didn’t want to wake her. But he could hear her heart. Bum bum. Bum bum. Her heartbeat was beautiful. It was like a lullaby. He wanted to listen to it forever. He wanted to hear it stop. Her heartbeat spiked as she woke up. 

“Wha- AH-“ her scream was quickly cut off with a hand over her mouth.

“Ness, ness it’s me,” Wade reassured. “Don’t scream.”

Vanessa nodded, and his hand moved away from her face. “You’re… alive.”

Wade shrugged. “Ness uhm… I’m really scared.”

“Why? What happened, you were gone for a year Wade I thought you died!”

“I think I am dead, Ness.”

“What? No, that’s crazy Wade. Did you meet with some witch doctor or something? You could be coming down from a really bad trip okay,” Vanessa pacified. She was good at that, pacifying him.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Wade said.

“I… what did you take? Mushrooms? Ayahuasca? Whatever, we’ll figure something out okay? Why don’t you lay down.”

“I can hear everyone’s heartbeat,” Wade continued. “From a block away. I can smell their blood too.”

Fear. Wade could smell fear on Vanessa. That was no good.

“Wade. Why are you saying this to me? Huh? You’re scaring me.”

“I’m so hungry, Ness.”

“… you’re just sick, baby.”

“Vanessa…”

“Yes, baby?” Vanessa was trembling in front of him.

He didn’t want this.

“-Nessa…”

His teeth started to hurt.

“I’m so hungry.”

Wade started to lean in closer. 

“You smell so good.”

No.

“Please, help me,”

No!

“Please, Ne—“

Wade was stopped with a stab in the head. Vanessa’s emergency pocket knife was driven deep inside his skull. Oddly enough, this seemed to have cleared his mind to understand what he had been doing. He was on top of Vanessa, his fangs ready to pierce through her skin as he pinned her down. She was crying. He made her cry, he made her afraid of him.

“I- I’m so sorry baby. I-“ Wade pulled the knife out of his skull. “I… I’m so sorry. Oh God. Oh my God. I’m so so sorry.”

Wade stumbles out of the apartment, he stays in the alleyways, hiding from the sun. Blood stains the left side of his face as he runs away. He found himself in a gas station bathroom to wash the blood off. When he looked up at the dirty mirror Wade’s breathing stilled. He couldn’t see himself. 

Wade groaned when he woke up that Sunday afternoon. Many benefits came to Vampirism, like superhuman strength, speed, and heightened healing periods. What it couldn’t fix, Wade found out, was cancer. Wade is already dead. So, unfortunately, during his bad days when he wanted to die, he couldn’t. He was lying face down on the pullout couch, unable to move and unwilling. Mary puppins was very pleased to lick Wade’s face to consciousness 

“Daddy’s not feeling well today,” Wade mumbled. The aching pain in his bones made him unable to react, even as she started to lick into his mouth.  

“Bad day?” Althea questioned from the other, smaller couch. 

“Very,” Wade mumbled. 

“You think you might want to stay in tonight?” Althea asked. “We don’t have to go to the meeting this week.”

Althea was referring to the weekly support group they went to after Wade got them sober. It was mostly for Wade. As much as Althea complained about not wanting to be sober, she appreciated the environment. She also recognized that Wade needed this community more than she did.

“And miss out on those oatmeal raisin cookies? No way,” Wade said, but the energy for the joke fell flat as a wave of pain flashed through him. “I’ll be spick and span by the end of the day.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Althea grumbled. “How’d it go with the neighbors?”

Wade warmed up at the mention. “James is nice. Didn’t call me a slur so that's a bonus. He’s real handsome too, wish you could see him.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, and by the way you’re my mother,”  Wade added, much to Althea’s complaints.

“Damnit Wade, you just ruined my chances with that man! How did he believe you anyway?”

“First of all, respectfully, you are knocking on death’s door. I should know I’m literally the bouncer,” Wade was able to raise a single finger to make his point to a blind audience. “Second of all, adoption exists.”

“I still got some charm left! You know back in my day I got three pastors—”

“Oh God, no, don’t do this to a crippled man Althea, please,” Wade cut her off.

“Oh but when you do it,” Althea grumbled.

“Besides, I call dibs.”

“Wha- How the fuck—”

“You didn’t call dibs Al,” Wade’s voice trailed off as he drifted back to sleep with Mary on top of his head.

“That’s ridiculous. He’s a grown man, you can’t call dibs. Damn.”

On Sundays, the church gathering hall was shared by two support groups: one for addicts, and the other for veterans. Though Wade technically qualified for both groups, he never felt like he deserved the title of veteran. He was dishonorably discharged and more than happy to suppress those memories. But, the vet support group knew Wade well. This is where he met Cable and another Wolf Frank. Frank was nice to chat at, he wouldn’t respond with anything other than grunts and hums but wouldn’t threaten him like Cable would. Cable was by the door with Frank sharing a cigarette with him when Wade approached. Cable gave Wade a once over before passing Frank the cig and wishing him a goodnight. 

“You alright?” Cable asks. 

Wade was off-kilter, swaying where he stood. It hurt to stand, and it hurt to see, but Wade had really wanted to go. “I’m alright sugarbear, it’s just a bad day,” Wade placed a hand on Cable’s arm to lean on.

“Let me lead you in. You shouldn’t be doing shit like this, you still have to rest,” Cable grumbled. 

“You know I get all tingly when you get super protective like that,” Wade giggled as he let himself be led. From behind him, Frank had taken the initiative to lead Althea in. She immediately started flirting with him.

“Shut up, Wade.”

Wade and Cable had a strange relationship. It was a week-long, hate sex filled stint that left neither of them fulfilled. They were each other’s rebounds and left with no hard feelings. Oddly enough, Cable still cared for Wade, even considering him part of his Pack. Wade gathered that this was very much a Big Deal, and Vanessa was happy to hear that Wade had someone to consider family during their growth period. Cable led Wade to one of the chairs in the back of the hall. People started to file out as the Veteran's support group dissipated leaving the hall less crowded. 

“Need anything?” Cable asked as he sat Wade down. 

“Ooh, one of those maple donuts if they have them back there.”

“I’ll see what they have,” and Cable was off. 

Althea was sat next to Wade soon after, poor Frank had to pry her off of him to stand up. 

“Al leave the poor guy alone, he’s not even supposed to be in this story,” Wade pulled Althea back. 

“I’m just being friendly!” Althea defended.

“You’re being a predator, sorry Frankie you can go ahead and do whatever it is you do at night,” Wade waved Frank off. Bewildered, Frank walked off with a grumble. “Do all werewolves just grunt? I feel like the characterization is severely lacking.”

“They didn’t have whatever you wanted so I got you half a glazed donut,” Cable walked back and handed Wade and Althea their donuts. 

“Oh I love getting a glaze,” Wade ate his slowly. It did nothing for his hunger, but, he often treated himself to something nice after a hard day. 

“I’m going to ignore that,” Cable said. “Althea, yours is chocolate don’t let Mary have any.” Mary was curled up against Althea’s foot, gazing at their treats with longing. 

“I’m sorry baby,” Althea gave Mary a scratch for consolation.  

“Need me to wait for you? I can drive you home?” Cable asks. 

Wade considers the offer. The walk to the apartment wasn’t very far, but it nearly killed Wade this evening. He’d never admit it, but Wade was close to keeling over and lying on the ground in pain when they arrived. 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Cable nodded and moved to sit next to Althea. Mary immediately went up to receive pets from him, which he gave happily. 

There was nothing extraordinary about the meeting. Wade never went up to give a testimony, he never has in the two years he's been attending. When he made the decision to get sober, it came with the horrifically existential realization that the people around him weren’t immortal. Before then, he’d do egregious amounts of cocaine at almost all hours of the day just to alleviate the pain. And for a while Al was on board, partaking in the behavior but never at the level Wade had been.

And then she almost overdosed. She had been pushing eighty at the time. Althea had been for Wade almost since day one of his release from enthrallment. Despite the lies and the blatant pestering, Wade truly did see her as a mother figure. And during a time when he didn’t have Vanessa as his rock, the thought of losing her struck a deep fear into him. He had sat in the waiting room of the hospital, coked out of his mind and in the middle of a panic attack when he remembered mortality. He had gone home and scrubbed the apartment clean after that. Althea didn’t want to go sober in the beginning but didn’t have much choice with Wade hovering around her at every minute. 

Once the meeting ended, Cable drove the two back to their apartment and helped Wade and Althea up the stairs. At the door, once Al was inside, Wade turned to Cable and gave him as tight of a hug as his muscles could muster. 

“Thank you, Nate,” Wade mumbles into his jacket. Cable hugged back loosely.

“Don’t mention it, take care of yourself, Wade,” Cable patted Wade on the back and let go to leave. 

Wade didn’t notice the way Cable’s nose scrunched up when he passed James’s door.

———

Logan couldn’t sleep. He was no stranger to nights plagued with nightmares, but this was different. He didn’t feel secure here, there was no comfort for him to fall back on. He should have suspected sooner that this would have caught up to him. A big move, the over-saturation, going sober for the first time in his life. And he’s back in New York.  

He swore to himself twenty years ago that he’d never come back. He couldn’t come back. He worried what would happen if he stepped onto Charles Xavier’s property. Would they shun him? Would they deny Laura if they found out she was Logan’s daughter? Would they take her away from him, deem him unfit to take care of a child?

He wouldn’t blame them, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry even in this fake scenario he’d brewed in his head. It’s usually when these thoughts start to claw at him that he’d turn to liquor. He’d drink so much alcohol in such a short period he’d lose himself and blackout. Whatever happened between the time he drank and the second he woke up on the floor was between him and whatever god out there.

He felt that itch. The tremor in his hand, the ache in his skull. He could feel the silver cling to his bones. But he couldn’t do anything about it. He promised Laura. Laura was here, she needed him. Sober and functional, he always struggled on the functional part as of late. Laura walked into the living room where Logan was at about four am.

“… what’s wrong, honey?” Logan asked.

“I… I thought of the forest again,” Laura whispered.

Logan sighed and then invited Laura to come closer. “C’mere. It’s alright.”

Unexpectedly, Laura walked over to sit on Logan’s lap, allowing him to cradle her. He’s noticed she’s become much more open to touch with him. Logan allows himself to hold Laura tight, rocking them back and forth. The pressure and heat were soothing.

“… Have I ever tell you about my favorite night shifting?” Logan felt Laura shake her head. “Well… I was around twelve, and I was a runaway with my brother. His name is Victor. Vic and I used to run around this creek at night, and we’d hunt and roughhouse, all of that. We’d run as fast as we could and howl as loud as possible at the moon.

“This night, when we were running around, we were trying to see who could catch the biggest fish from the creek. So we’re splashing around, we’re biting at fish and missing. I’m surprised I didn’t get a leech up my nose,” Logan pauses when he hears Laura’s giggle.

“Suddenly Vic stops. I’m thinking he caught something, he was my older brother I always thought he was better at everything. So I’m ready to get goaded on by him, and then I turn to see him trying to hack something up. What was funny is that every time he opened his mouth, I would hear a ribbit coming from his mouth,” Laura’s giggles started to become a full laugh now.

“Now me being the mean brother I am, I’m not even helping I’m just laughing at him. Of course, he hacks the thing up, now he’s growling at me but I can’t stop laughing. Now he’s running full speed to tackle me and I start running up the creek. At some point I pause and look down to see the biggest salmon I have ever seen start swimming by. So of course I grab it, Vic stops to see what the fuck I’m looking smug for— don’t repeat that— and I start showing off this salmon in his face. 

“Of course he doesn’t care and he tackles me anyway. But when we got back to our camp we cooked the salmon I caught,” Logan looked ahead wistfully. “That was my first successful hunt. And I did it by myself. I was so proud then. It was our first full meal in a week.”

“Where’s Victor?” Laura asks.

Logan lets out a long pained sigh. “Me and Vic we aren’t on the best terms right now. I love him to death but we can’t be around each other. And he especially cannot be around you, okay Laura?”

“Is he mean?”

“Yes, he’s very mean. He’s very mean right now, and I don’t want him to hurt you okay?” Logan regrets the soured mood. Old painful memories started to flare up back into his life.

“Okay, Papa,” Laura said. 

Logan landed a kiss on her head. “I’m sorry sweetheart, let’s go back to bed alright? We’ll go grocery shopping in the morning.”

Laura nodded and allowed herself to be led back into her room. 

The morning of wasn’t better for Logan. He ended feeling like he’s had the worst hangover in the world while looking at the cereal section. The boxes were too bright, and the artificial lights were giving him a headache, but thankfully they went at six am so no one was in the store.

“You want that one?” Logan asked Laura who was holding a cereal box.

“Yes.” 

“Alright, put it in,” Logan said.

There were a lot of frozen foods in the cart, but Logan found that sometimes it was the only way to get Laura to eat. He himself also enjoyed the simplicity, he couldn’t blame her. He tried his best to make sure Laura was eating her fruits and vegetables, often sneaking them into meals. He’d be caught every time since her sense of taste was as powerful if not even more so comparable to Logan’s. But she ate it anyway, not without sending a look that would kill Logan if it could. Logan’s hands gripped the cart tight as he walked past the wine section to get to the cheese section. He didn’t miss the stare Laura was sending him from in front of the cart.

“I’m alright,” Logan reassured, picking out Laura’s preferred brand of mac and cheese. The label was different, suggesting a change in marketing but he hoped that didn’t also mean the recipe. He put it in the box and went to grab Laura’s back up just in case.

When in line to check out Logan felt a tug at his jacket. He turned to look at Laura only to have a pair of sunglasses shoved on his face. They were cheap plastic with brown lenses but it helped with Logan’s harsh reaction to the artificial light. Laura had her own, pink and blue specks on the frames.

“You want them? Alright, put them on the belt,” Logan said.

Logan knew he had thirty minutes to spare, and Laura was eying the pony at the front of the grocery store. With the food secured, Logan stood by the window with his new shades watching Laura play on the painted pony with her own pair. The music was grating, and the creaks from the rocking pony irked him but Laura looked content and Logan couldn’t get himself to say anything. Logan went to work soon after. Laura was able to stay in the boss’s office after Logan explained he had no one to look after her.

“I can’t afford a babysitter yet, but she’ll be in school soon so it won’t be a problem for long,” Logan said. “She doesn’t talk, she’ll just keep to herself in the corner.”

“Ah, no worries, James. It’ll be no problem, we are family here,” Marco, his boss, reassured. “Let my son show you around, Francis!”

A man with dark buzzed hair came out from under a truck. Logan sniffed the air subtly, he had smelled the scent during his interview but it was too faint for him to pay attention to it. Hackles raised when he saw Francis walking over. This man was a Wolf but not a normal one. He was a Lycanthrope. A dark feral smell emanated from him, this was his territory.

Lycanthropes were different from born Wolves. They were bitten and turned mostly by feral Wolves or Alpha wolves who want to add numbers to their pack. This didn’t happen often, the disconnect between Wolf and Human wouldn’t be able to create a bond, creating a very unpredictable situation. 

“Just call me Frank,” he said with his hand out as an offer. 

Logan took his hand with a firm grasp and shook it. “Logan.”

For a second they held eye contact before Logan dipped his head down. A sign of submission, he didn’t want danger, especially with his daughter around. Frank grunted before letting go.

“Help me out with this alright,” Frank motioned toward the car was working on.

“Alright,” Logan turned to Laura. “Be good alright. Hey.” Laura was staring at Frank with wide eyes, Logan couldn’t tell the expression. Fear? Curiosity? Laura looked back at Logan.

“Be good,” Logan said firmly. Laura nodded before following Marco into his office.

Frank led Logan to the truck. He sorted through his tools for a minute before turning to look at Logan.

“You new around here?” He asked.

“As of recently,” Logan said.

“Just you or do you have a pack,” Frank asked, then sniffed the air. “Smells like it’s just you.”

Logan bit back a growl. “It’s just me and my daughter. I don’t want any shit, alright bub. I just want to keep her safe.”

Frank’s scent dampens at the mention of Laura. “… I don’t mean you any harm. I don’t take kindly to new wolves, they tend to bite. Especially an old one like you.”

Logan took a step back. It was surprising to find a lycanthrope with such impressive control over their senses. Logan couldn’t smell age until well into his forties.

Frank held his hand up in surrender, a calming scent radiated over him. “Let’s just keep it simple, alright?”

“Alright,” Logan nodded.

“Let me finish this up, I need you to pop the hood for me,” Frank immediately turned away to slide under the car.

The rest of the day went without conflict. Logan carried the napping Laura back to the car. He didn’t miss the wistful expression on Frank’s face as he walked by. Logan placed Laura inside the car and drove back home finally able to relax. Logan made the mac and cheese when they got home for dinner, and allowed Laura to have a cookie. Logan was losing hope for the dish as he made it. The color was off but only slightly, and the texture was all wrong.

Logan sniffed at his food before taking a bite, Laura doing the same. Immediately spat out into the bowl, Laura pushed her bowl away with a frown. Logan couldn’t blame her, fighting his own personal battle to keep chewing his food.

“They did change the fuckin recipe.”

Chapter Text

“Charles! Charles, I have a situation here!” Logan yelled into the comms in his ear as he raced from the building.

Logan was recently recruited onto an unofficial task force under Charles Xavier. Here, he helped rescue at-risk supernatural youth from exploitative organizations. As expected, these missions often turned deadly. Jean was holding onto a little boy as she ran and Logan was beside her, holding Scott Summers. He was bleeding out onto a makeshift gauze from Logan's undershirt. A trail of footsteps and blood on the snow followed them. Jean was panicking, and Scott was losing consciousness in Logan’s arms. With the amount of blood he had been losing Logan wasn’t sure if he would last much longer. It was frigid, running was much more of a challenge in the thick layer of snow. 

“Yes, I see Logan,” Charles said urgently in his ear. “The jet will be around shortly.”

Logan huffs as he stops running. The kid was crying, Jean was pacing trying to get him to quiet down as they hid from hunters tracking them in the woods. 

“Scott doesn’t have that,” Logan mumbled. He put Scott down in the snow and knelt over him. “Charles, Scott doesn’t have a lot of time he’s bleeding out.”

“What do you need to do Logan.”

Logan looked over to Jean. “What is it, can you save him?” She asked.

“...You might not like it,” Logan said. “Charles… I’m going to bite him.”

“That would turn Scott into a lycanthrope, not a Wolf, Logan,” Charles warned in his ear. 

“But he’ll heal like a Wolf, these bullets aren’t silver Charles they won’t do shit to him as a wolf,” Logan said. “Make the call Charles, yes or no?”

“Do it!” Jean urged. 

“Do it, we’ll deal with the consequences,” Charles said. 

Logan leaned down to Scott’s face. “Scott… Scottie, I need you to respond,”

“Hhhnnngg,” Scott moaned in pain. 

“I know. Listen, this is gonna hurt like hell, you can call me a bitch later,” Logan took a step back and shifted into his wolf form. 

He sniffed at the body before nosing at Scott’s leg. He took a deep breath and bit as hard as he could. Scott's blood-curdling scream rang out into the forest. When Logan stepped away, Scott was already healing but convulsing and seizing. He was growling like an animal, clawing at the ground beneath him. Bullets started to drop into the snow as his wounds closed up. After a few minutes of agony, Logan dragged Scott's body through the snow as he heard the jet in the distance. Logan quickly shifted back into human form as the mouth of the plane opened up to them.

Quickly, Scott was dragged away by Hank and Storm into the jet. Logan followed them with Jean and the little boy they saved, he could already feel the bond growing between him and Scott. It was a strange feeling to become an Alpha for the first time. He looked over to Jean and felt that same bond connect to her, He only hoped he could keep them safe.

A week has gone by since Logan and Laura moved in. The apartment was still bare but he knew Laura wouldn’t be around long enough to fully settle in before going to school. What shocked Logan was an email he received from Xavier. Charles had offered Logan an opportunity to visit the school before the year started. The anxiety from last week resurfaced, he read the email ten times. He drafted responses only to delete, rewrite, and never send them. 

Soon enough, Logan found himself in his pickup driving to Westchester. Laura was in the front seat with him wearing her new sunglasses. She had worn them every day since she got them, even sleeping with them next to her pillow. Logan didn’t know what she found special about them, but it helped ground her in difficult moments. Laura’s eyes were glued to the scenery. Wide open spaces with mansions scattered around the countryside. She happily pointed at them as they drove past. She sat there in awe, Logan realized this was her first time seeing actual wealth. 

“Look at that, they got horses up ahead,” Logan motioned at the ranch ahead of them. He smiled as Laura pressed her face against the glass to see them. 

Laura looked back at Logan like she wanted to say something, only to frown and pull her lips tight. It looked like it was a struggle for her to even consider moving her mouth. She was preparing to take a deep breath to have enough air to form the words. She was nonverbal today. She genuinely struggled to form words without lethargy. Soon she gave up and started trying to write down what she wanted to Logan. 

“It’s okay Laura, you don’t have to speak,” Logan reassured. Laura relaxed against the seat. “The people here are nice, they’ll understand you better than the other schools we went to, alright?” Laura nodded as she looked up at Logan. 

“They won’t judge you here, they’ll take care of you. I promise,” Logan said. “I trust them with my life.” Logan wasn’t sure if the reassurance was meant for Laura or for him. Logan gripped the steering wheel tight.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

Logan repeats the phrase to himself over and over until he finally believes it. When they reach the house it’s quiet. No one was on the porch, no children were running around the front yard. It was eery. Logan found himself stuck in the car for a very long time. The engine was off but he couldn’t take his hand off the wheel, all he could do was stare.

He could see himself on the porch, at least twenty years younger sipping on a beer as the sun set over the trees. He could feel the breeze on his face, he could feel it running through his hair. He could feel Jean’s hands on his chest, holding him from behind. He could feel Scott leaning against him as he watched in silence. Logan could smell them, their combined scent. All of Jean, all of Scott, and even himself melded together and stuck in the recesses of his sinuses. Warm like apple cider, sweet like a perfume rose, thick like the forest. The scent that he could never forget, even when he tried so hard to. Logan didn’t realize how long he was stuck until a gentle hand touched his. Laura looked at him with concern, leaning in closer.

“Ah… I’m sorry sweetheart. Just memories.” Logan said distantly as he tried to gather his composure. “Let me fix your hair.”

Laura let herself be fussed over by him. He tried his best to make her hair lay as flat as possible only to fail when realizing she had the same cowlicks Logan had. Sorry sweetheart, Logan apologized internally before backing away. The fussing helped ground him.

“Alright… ready?” 

Laura nods before pulling at the door handle and jumping out of the truck. Logan let out a shaky breath as he climbed out as well. The Howletts walked in tandem towards the door, sticking close to one another for comfort. Logan raised his fist to knock on the door, taking a second to script out any response to any greeting he might receive. His fists hit the wood.

There was a brief moment of silence, then movement from behind the door. The entrance opened to a woman staring down at a wad of cash in her hand, counting. Her hair was pure white and feathery.

“Alright, this should be eno…” She paused as she looked up at him. “Oh my God.”

“Hey Storm…” Logan greeted. Everything he had scripted had gone out the window the second he laid eyes on Ororo.

Pain streaked over her face. “Logan,” she said in disbelief as she wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, Logan I thought you were dead. We all thought… you just disappeared, we were so worried.”

“I’m sorry. I know, I’m sorry,” Logan hugged back. “Did Charles not tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Storm asked. Logan pulled away from the hug to motion at Laura clinging onto his leg. “Oh… I,” 

Before Storm could respond a crash was heard from behind her. Rogue, with a water bottle in shambles at her feet, stood by the stairs with an expression as if witnessing a ghost. Logan cringed internally, he knew the commotion would cause more attention towards the front. But, the guilt he felt stopped him from reacting. 

“...Hey,” was all Logan could let out before Rogue ran at him at full speed, wrapping Logan in a hug. Storm barely gets out of the way, pulling herself back and turning to pick up the bottle.

“Hey? Hey? That’s all you have to say?” Rogue held onto Logan with a tight grip like he’d disappear if he let go. 

“You’ve grown so much,” Logan said distantly as he hugged Rogue back. His heart broke as he held on, he saw Rogue the same way he saw Laura. She was like a daughter to him, but at the time he couldn’t bring himself to step up for her. 

“And you’ve barely grown at all,” Rogue pulled her face away from Logan’s shoulder and looked at him. Her eyes were streaked with tears as she looked at him. A wet smile was placed on her face. 

“He has a kid with him,” Storm said. Rogue’s attention was torn away from him as she gazed down at Laura.

“Oh my goodness! I’m sorry little one I didn’t see you there!” Rogue moved to greet her. 

“Come inside,” Storm motioned. “I’ll take you up to Charles before everyone bombards you.”

“Oh, you’re right! I’m so sorry,” Rogue let them inside and closed the door behind them.

“Don’t be. Please,” Logan said. He looked down at Laura who held onto his arm. “This is Storm and this is Rogue. These are… my friends.” 

Logan hesitated at the word ‘friends.’ They were more than that, they meant more than just friends to him. They were his family, his Pack, yet he didn’t believe he deserved to call them that anymore. Amid grief and anger, he had abandoned them. He could still see the betrayal in Storm’s face as she led them up the stairs.

“What’s your name?” Rogue asked. She gave Logan an inquisitive look when Laura tugged at his sleeve.

“I’m sorry, her name is Laura. She doesn’t speak very much,” Logan said.

“Where did you find her?” Storm questioned. 

“She’s my daughter,” Logan hated the look Rogue and Storm gave each other. He knew what they were thinking, it was the same thoughts he had when he first met Laura. How? With who? Why now, after Scott and Jean’s death? 

“Who’s the mom?” Storm asked.

“I don’t know,” Logan said as they stopped at Charles’s office door. He didn’t miss the brief flash of judgment that flashed over Storm’s face. Storm raised her fist to knock on the door, only for a wave of psychic connection to form.

Come in, the voice said. Rogue and Storm were unfazed. Logan had a brief moment of shock before melting into the comfort of familiarity. Laura was completely fearful. Tearing herself away from Logan and the door, covering her ears from the unexpected noise.

“Whoa, whoa Laura. It’s okay Laura, we heard it too,” Logan reassures. “That’s just Charles, he’s special like us. He can talk to people in their heads, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you.”

From behind him, he could hear the choked and baffled gasp from Rogue. He’s aware the last time he met her he wasn’t as friendly and forgiving as he was now. Laura, still trembling, walks towards Logan again. This time she fully hides behind Logan’s body. As they venture inside the office, Logan is greeted by the warm smile of Charles Xavier. 

“I apologize for any fear I may have caused, I had assumed the little one would have already been told,” Charles looks over to Logan. “Hello, Logan. Please refrain from saying ‘hey’, thank you.”

Logan cleared his throat. “… hello? Shit- I’m sorry Chuck,”

Charles only chuckled. “There’s no need, where is the little one? Hello dear girl,” Laura peeked from behind Logan’s leg. “My goodness, she’s the spitting image of you. The same frown and all.”

“Please sit,” Storm mentioned towards the chairs. “Rogue can you take care of the—“

“Oh, you’re so right! Be right back!” Rogue takes the cash from Storm and exits the room.

For a minute, Charles, Storm, Logan, and Laura sat in silence. Charles cleared his throat before speaking.

“It’s good to see you, Logan.” 

“Yeah, it’s… you finally turned this place into a school,” Logan fumbled.

“Yes. Just like I promised, I had hoped one day you would come back and teach for us. I’ll admit this is better than anything else I’ve thought of before,” Charles said.

Logan coughed uncomfortably at the vulnerability presented to him. This was his, Jean's, and Scott’s dream. Raising a family here, keeping them safe and stable. This was something they should have been able to have.

“You said you didn’t know who the mother was. Why is that?” Storm pressed.

“Storm, please,” Charles begged.

“I’m just asking a reasonable question,” Storm said, Logan wasn’t blaming Storm for her standoffishness. He had left this house hurting, only to find himself back with a child obviously not Jean’s.

“I don’t know who the mother is… because I think the program I was put in made her,” Logan says. Storm wavers where she stands. “Show them your claws sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Laura looks up at Charles through her glasses, before putting her hands on the table and revealing the silver claws from her nail bed. Storm covered her mouth in horror as Charles let out a pitied sound.

“It’s only in her hands I think. Her body is growing like normal, and she isn’t unnaturally heavy. She won’t tell me how it happened but I assume it was bad enough,” Logan continues. “She’s ten, but I’ve only known her for two years.”

“Do you feel any pain dear?” Charles asked Laura. “You can speak in your head and I’ll be able to hear. Are you okay with that?”

Laura hesitated before looking over to Logan. “It’s okay, he’s just trying to help. You can write it down if you don’t want him in your head.” Laura considered Logan’s words before turning back to Charles. 

“Yes, I can hear you dear… I see. Why haven’t you told Logan where you came from? … You were told not to? By who?” Logan became increasingly concerned with the language of the one-sided conversation before Laura shook her head and fussed. “It’s alright dear, you’re safe here. … There will be no hunters here I can promise you. Has this been a concern Logan?”

Logan shifted in his seat. “There was an incident with one last year, we tried covering our tracks but they caught onto us. This was part of the reason why I came back, Charles.”

“What happened?” Storm asked, she looked over to Laura who had gone blank over the mention of that night.

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” Logan said. Storm and Charles paused before backing up. 

“Alright, we’ll discuss this later,” Charles said. “For now, would Laura like a tour of the campus?” Logan nudged Laura’s elbow to break her out of a trance before repeating the question. Laura nodded, taking her hands away from the desk.

Logan followed closely behind Charles and Laura. Joy fluttered in his heart as he watched Charles talk to Laura like his own child. Many of the kids were still on campus, some Logan remembers saving, either running around during the summer or as part of the staff. There was an air of irreverence as Logan walked past them. Laura followed Charles closely, holding onto his wheelchair and listening to his guided tour.

Storm walked next to Logan. She was quiet like she was contemplating the next words she could say. Time and time again she’d open her mouth to say something only to close it again and turn away. Logan let out a sigh and quietly cleared his throat.

“I do love them you know,” he said.

“I know,” Storm sighed. “I guess it just hurts. Jean used to talk about it all the time, I remember your apprehension about being a father. But Jean was so confident, I believed her.”

“It hurt me too, seeing her for the first time,” Logan scrunched his face at the memories of his behavior. “I was… I was a shit dad that first year. I had convinced myself that I’d be no good for her so much I was. I’m just glad she’s so forgiving.”

“Do you still believe that?”

“Yes. One hundred percent," Logan said without hesitation. “I’m a Feral Wolf. I'm no good to anyone. But she has no one else, and I’m trying to be better.”

“Do you love her Logan?” Storm asked.

“Without a doubt in my mind. I’d ki-,” Logan cut himself off. “I’d die for her.”

“That’s all a child can ask for,” Storm said. “Logan, be kinder to yourself. I know you have wounds to heal, we all do.”

Logan considers her words for a moment. The tour had led them outside the building and onto the lawn space. Most of the area was used for training, but the large vacant field was often used as an open area for the students.

“This is where the children train or play, it’s very open. We have other Wolves here too,” Charles said. Logan was glad, he was concerned about Laura being isolated from their community. She needed interactions with other Wolves that weren’t hostile.

“Logan used to run here a lot, with Scott,” Storm said. Laura turned to look at Storm and Logan. She gave Logan a questioning stare.

“Uh Scott was…,” Logan paused. “He was part of my Pack a long time ago.”

“… 'like Victor?’ She asked. You told her about him?” Charles asked.

“Y-yeah… but a little more than that,” Logan said. Laura nodded and turned back to the field.

“Yes it’s safe here… of course you can run!” Charles said happily.

Laura walked towards Logan and tugged on his sleeve. “Laura…” Logan hesitated.

“I haven’t seen you in so long Logan…” Charles said.

Logan looked at Laura’s pleading eyes and caved. He sighed, letting himself be led towards the field. Laura shifted as quickly as possible, running circles around Logan as she waited. Logan took a breath and looked over to Storm and Charles before shifting himself. Laura happily yipped before nuzzling into Logan’s fur.

They were safe here, and Laura was happy here. Logan could feel the joy emanating from her as she rolled in the grass and howled as loud as she could. They ran together in the grass and the wooded area. Logan sat as he watched her chase ground squirrels and bite at the foliage. He’d never seen her run so fast or so much before.

When they walked back together to Charles and Storm, Rogue had joined them at some point and was visibly tearing up at the sight of them. Laura bound towards Charles, putting her head on his lap as her tail swung.

“Oh how wonderful,” Charles said wistfully. "She looks just like you.”

Rogue knelt to envelope Logan in a furry hug. “I missed you so much.”

Storm knelt to hug Logan as well. There was no doubt in his mind, Laura would be safe here. He leaned into the hugs then and let out a happy rumble, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to come back but he was ready to make sure his daughter was as loved as he felt now.

Chapter Text

Wade would consider himself a vain person, and while the effects of vampirism gave way to many grievances, one of his major points of contention was being unable to see himself. The magical effects were just so his skin could not reflect light, but his clothes were. 

With Althea being blind, and Vanessa being out of his life during the first two years of his death, no one was there to reassure Wade of his aesthetics. Not that he needed compliments regularly, or that he needed to peacock in front of a mirror. No, Wade wanted to be reassured that he didn’t look like the monster he felt he was. 

So it’s days like these, on a Sunday afternoon, where Wade would dress in whatever he felt made him look handsome or pretty. And he’d go to the mirror and smear makeup on his face. Because for a brief window, the makeup could be seen in the mirror, and Wade would walk and dance around the house. He’d play his and Althea’s favorite music, and get responsibly high off weed, for the first time in a month after a self-imposed tolerance break. Wade would need a lot of weed in order to maintain a high, so instead of smoking he moved onto copious amounts of edibles he hid expertly away from Althea and Mary.

Wade was twirling around in a maxi skirt with Mary in his hands while listening to Dancing Queen. The apartment’s air was thick with the scent of weed, while Althea was on the couch with a joint and a plate of brownies. Wade had taken up baking after discovering the working oven and was having a great time

“You can dance! You can jive! C’mon, sing it Mary!” Wade brought Mary closer to himself. She let out a yip that sounded melodically close enough to the song. “Ooooh! See that girl! Sorry Al, watch that scene! Sorry Al, digging the dancing queeen!”

“Wade I know I’m blind you don’t have to remind me,” Althea gripes.

“You're so old Al, what if you get dementia and forget!” 

“That I’m blind?”

“It’s a horrible disease,” Wade said solemnly. 

“Wade. Play my damn music and shut up,” Althea said as she took another long drag from her joint.

Wade shrugged and moved towards the CD player in the corner of the room. “Alright. Sade, Jill Scott or Erykah Badu?” Wade held up the CDs before scoffing and putting them down.

“I’m feeling Erykah today,” Wade put the disk into the player, ejecting the Mamma Mia! soundtrack disk he found at a thrift store once.

“Do you think Erykah Badu is a witch since we know the supernatural is real,” Wade questions.

“It’s a possibility. She got her bag out of it so I’m not knocking her,” Althea said.

“Speaking of knocking,” a second later a rap at the door sounded in the room. “Did you order a pizza?”

“No that was supposed to be your job,” Althea said as she ate another brownie.

“… did I?” In Wade’s contemplation of whether or not he ordered the pizza, he opened to door only to immediately slam it in their face at the realization of who it was. “Oh my god.”

“Who is it?” Althea asks.

“Oh my god, oh my god oh no,” Wade immediately rushes to the bathroom to wash off the eyeshadow and smeared lipstick on his face.

———

Logan stood there in silence. The smell from the apartment was pungent, like a thick blanket of pure skunk. As much as his nose twinged at the smell, he was used to it. He was around during the sixties and seventies so there wasn’t much that could phase him.

What confused him was the abrupt nature of the reaction. Wade had come out wearing a crop top, a skirt, and makeup where the colors clashed horribly. Wade’s immediate panic concerned Logan. He had hoped in his quest to avoid uncomfortable interactions he hadn’t accidentally presented himself as a bigot. His language hadn’t quite updated to modern-day society, so Logan racks his brain about anything he has said to Wade.

When Wade came back to the door, face dripping and eyes red, he greeted Logan in between pants. “Heyy neighbor! I wasn’t expecting you!”

“Hi.. uhm, here’s your Tupperware.” Logan pressed it to Wade.

“Oh shit, awesome, thank you!” 

“My daughter really liked them, thank you,” Logan said.

“Who’s at the door!” Althea yelled from the couch.

“It’s the neighbor!” Wade yelled back, Logan held back from flinching.

“James! Oh, why don’t you invite him inside for some tea!” 

“Ahh,” Wade let out a nervous chuckle before turning to Logan. “Oh you don’t have to— let’s not bother the poor guy I’m sure he’s busy!”

“I- uh, I’m sorry I have to run some errands,” Logan shuffled where he stood.

“He’s busy Al!” Wade yelled back.

“Well tell him he’s welcome anytime baby.”

“He can… he can hear you. Ew, I’m so sorry,” Wade apologized.

“You call your mom by her first name?” Logan asked.

“Hm?” Wade blinked. “Oh! Yeah, we’re just uh… cool like that. Very laid-back relationship, that I have. With my adoptive mother.”

Logan sniffed once again at the pungent smell of weed. “I can tell.”

“… I got an extra eddy if you want?” Wade asked, his voice was hushed as if keeping a secret.

“Uh, no I’m alright. I have to drive,” Logan said.

Wade nodded and backed away. “Alright. Me and Al mean it you know, you’re welcome here anytime. You can come to me whenever you need a cup of sugar- not a euphemism oh my god.”

Surprising himself, Logan let out a chuckle at the absurdity. “It’s alright. Uh, thank you again. I don’t like owing people but, whatever you or Althea need I’ll be happy to help.”

“Yeah? That’s cool… thanks, I’m so sorry I’m usually better at this,” Wade said.

“It’s alright, bub. See you around,” Logan watched as Wade let out a bashful giggle before closing the door. 

Excusing the strange behavior on the weed, Logan heads back into his apartment where Laura waits for him. Logan knew Laura needed supplies for her new dorm at the school. Being wholly underprepared with their two boxes and a duffle bag worth of stuff, Logan decided to take Laura shopping for supplies as quickly as possible. 

“Ready?” Laura nodded before walking towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Logan was quickly remembering why he didn’t like shopping. The fluorescent lights were giving him a headache, and unfortunately, he left his sunglasses in the car. The store was crowded and the volume wasn’t helping. He just wanted to get what Laura needed and leave quickly. Despite the overstimulation, she had a grand time touring the different aisles to find what she wanted.

Logan tried to keep Laura on task and away from the many distractions of the store, but she was just a kid. In a desperate attempt to gain control of the situation, Logan tried to make a deal.

“Sweetheart, let’s just get what you need and we can come back and grab something later,” Logan begged. Thankfully Laura listened, picking out everything she needed for her dorm. 

When they rounded back into the toy section Laura immediately gravitated to what she wanted. It wasn’t anything grandiose or expensive. In Laura’s hands was a floppy, grey rabbit plush. Logan let her place the toy into the cart, it looked like it was stuffed on the shelf and forgotten. In the car, Laura held onto the plush tightly, petting it and rocking it in her arms like Logan did the other night. 

“They didn’t let me keep one at the lab,” Laura said. Her voice was scratchy from underuse. “The nurse gave us toys during Christmas once. But they took them away.”

Logan looked at Laura and tried not to look at her with pity. He knew he hated feeling pitied and he guessed Laura would feel the same. She was content holding onto her bunny, rubbing the plush on her face. Quietly he noticed the soft rumble that escaped her, like a forced growl but gentle. Purring, a behavior Logan knew she picked up from him, another quirk that differentiated the Howletts from other Wolves. 

The purring was something he picked up from Victor, a rare werewolf with genetic similarities to more feline qualities. Logan was never aware of how abnormal he acted towards other Wolves until he met them later in life. A part of him felt guilt seeing himself in Laura, watching her pick up mannerisms from him. But he knew she had no other role model to turn to. So Logan sat and listened to his daughter purr happily as he drove back home. 

———

“Wade! Are you home?” Vanessa called out into the apartment after Althea opened the door for her. “Thank you, Althea. Wade- oh,”

Wade was lying down on the kitchen floor surrounded by flour once again. While the production of his new baking habit has improved, the mess hadn’t. Vanessa stood by Wade’s feet and took a warm blueberry muffin from the baking tin closest to her.

“Hi Ness,” Wade greeted from a daze. 

“You turn into a homesteader? Should I expect a sourdough starter in the fridge,” Vanessa asked between bites of her muffins.

“You think he’d like that?”

“Who would like what?”

“James. The neighbor crush,” Wade sighed and tore his eyes away from the ceiling. “Ness I think I’m fucked.”

“I’ll say, you’ve given this man cookies once and you’re ready to be a trad wife,” Vanessa chuckles and goes to sit down next to Wade.

“He’s really hot,” Wade declared. “And sometimes I’ll walk past the playground down the road coming back from work and he’ll be there with his kid. It’s so cute it hurts.”

“The daddy issues are potent.”

“How do you seduce a man Ness? The only times I’ve been with a guy was after annoying the fuck out of them and those relationships don’t tend to last long.”

Vanessa thought to herself as she took another bite of her muffin. “Well, if you go the route we did it would be, ‘spontaneous trauma dumping/bonding and eventually matching each other’s freak.’ Or, my boyfriend and I where he just asked me out at a bar.”

Wade sighed. “The second option seems boring.”

“But practical. Are you sure this is a normal crush or is this an obsession?” Vanessa asked gently.

Wade let out a groan and sat up, flour snowed down to his lap. “I think it’s an infatuation. But it’s different.”

“How so?” Vanessa asked.

“You know how I can hear people,” Wade said vaguely. “When I hear his heartbeat it’s like the drum hit in a song you don’t really notice at first, but when it’s gone the song doesn’t sound right. Like it feels good hearing him and being around him.”

“Is it a hunger thing?”

Wade scratched the back of his neck in discomfort. “It’s always a hunger thing. It doesn’t go away, but it’s not the main focus. Yeah, there are times when I want to, but I have enough self-control that I can ignore it. There’s just something about him, it’s like a drug. Oh my god, I’m Edward Cullen.” Wade brought his flour-covered hand to his nose and sniffed.

“That could not have been pleasant,” Vanessa said.

“It wasn’t.”

“Maybe it’s like a vampire soulmate thing, Dracula and his brides.”

“Oh God I hope not, imagine being soul-tied to me, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“We’re soulmates Wade,” Vanessa said. She wiped her hands from the crumbs of her finished muffin.

“We are,” Wade pouted. “What should I do?”

“Alright I’ll pity you because you’re my best friend, but this is the last piece of advice I’ll give you,” Vanessa said pinching Wade’s cold cheek. “Be his friend first. I mean Cable and I are still around even after we’ve broken up.”

“You’re right.”

“I always am.”

“Yeah, you are… wanna get high off of the weed brownies I made?”

“I’m sorry Wade, my boyfriend and I are going out later tonight,” Vanessa said.

“It’s alright, we can just eat the regular stuff and watch Drag Race for a bit,” Wade mumbled. 

“... Alright. Want me to doll you up?”

“YES!”

———

Logan knocked on his neighbor’s door early Saturday morning. Laura stood next to him, waiting patiently for the door to open. In the few weeks Laura has been in the apartment, she has bonded closely with Althea and her dog Mary. Early in the morning, while Logan and Laura are having their morning walk to the park, Althea and Mary take their first stroll. Logan would walk with Althea tightly grasping his arm, while she allows Laura to hold onto Mary’s leash. This was a big responsibility that Laura took very seriously. She watches Mary intently as she waddles down the sidewalk, and cleans up after her to help Althea. 

Today was Laura’s last day in the apartment, all of her stuff was packed and ready to be put in her new dorm. She had begged Logan to let her say goodbye to Althea and Mary before leaving. Logan agreed without admitting to himself that he had grown a soft spot for Althea. 

The door opened with Althea in a purple tracksuit and Mary on a purple leash to match. Logan smiled to himself as he imagined Wade setting up Mary’s leash every morning to match with her. Laura immediately dove down to give Mary a pet, the tiny dog yipped and barked happily in her arms. 

“Well good morning James, and you too honey,” Althea greeted them. “Ready for our walk?”

“Yeah, Laura and I wanted to tell you this is her last walk with you before school,” Logan said,

Althea let out a pitied sound. “Oh well, that’s too bad. Mary’s gonna miss you, sweetheart.”

“Laura will miss her too I bet,” Logan watched as Althea gave Laura the leash. Laura hummed happily, attempting the same graveled purr.

“I do hope this doesn’t mean the end to… our walks?” Althea questioned.

Logan blinked, then hummed when he concluded that Althea must feel lonely. Logan gathered all the evidence he could find: she was old, had no grandchildren that she had mentioned, her son works the night shift so he must be sleeping all day, and she loves having Logan around as company. Seeing no other alternative motive to Althea’s actions, Logan simply chuckled and hooked his arm with Althea’s.

“I’d be happy to walk with you, Althea,” Logan reassured. Althea immediately leaned into Logan and held onto his arm tightly. 

“Oh you’re such a gentleman,” Althea crooned as she started her walk with the Howletts. 

The move-in wasn’t as chaotic as Logan expected it to be. Many children had lived on campus year-round, while the few supernatural children with parents that dropped them off, happened to do so fairly quickly. Hank was standing at the door to greet the children coming in. He was a Lycanthrope, characteristics easily melded into one being. Hank was interesting, his fusion created a perpetual state of limbo between the wolf and the human. 

“Logan! How are you old friend,” Hank greeted. 

“I’m alright, Hank. It’s good to see you,” Logan said sincerely. 

Hank hummed and took Logan’s hand in a firm handshake. “You too Logan. Please, don't be a stranger.”

“I’ll try,” Logan said. Hank nodded, he looked like he was about to cry before reeling himself in to greet Laura.

“Why hello little pup! You must be Laura,” Hank knelt down to Laura’s level. 

“You’re a funny wolf,” Laura said plainly. 

“Laura,” Logan said sharply, not very surprised by the blunt observation of his daughter. 

“Why yes I am! I was bitten by another Wolf! That means I have Lycanthropy,” Hank informed without judgment. “There’s no need to be embarrassed about making observations, as blunt as they may be. She’s in safe hands Logan.”

“Thank you, Hank,” Logan said. “C’mon Laura, let’s get to your room.”

The walk to the room was a pleasant experience. Laura’s mouth was open with interest, no doubt her eyes were wide under her sunglasses. Once they got Laura into her room, Logan helped Laura unpack and set up her bed. Hank talked with Laura about the school, from the students to the teachers. When the bed was set up Laura happily hopped on with a giggle. She placed her bunny plush by the pillow gently and turned to Logan with a smile. 

“Where do you stay?” She asked.

Confused, Logan gave Laura a soft smile. “I’m going back home. I have work on Monday.”

Laura frowned. “...You work here. You have a room”

“I… I had a room. I suppose I still do if they did nothing with it, but, I’m going back to New York, Laura,” Logan knelt by Laura’s bed and held onto her arm.

Laura’s frown deepened, and her scent soured. “No… your pack is here. I’m here. You stay here. You stay here with me.”

“Laura I—,” Logan looked over to Hank for help. Hank took a tentative step forward. “I… I can’t stay, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’ll visit as often as I can.”

“You’re leaving me,” Laura said definitively. 

“What? No, of course not Laura. I’ll come back, this is just a better environment for you,” Laura shook her head and tore herself away from Logan. 

“You’re leaving me. You’re going away, like you said,” Logan’s heart ached when he remembered one of his drunken rants. “You’re going to leave me here.”

“No. Laura, you know I didn’t mean that. That was a long time ago, I got better remember? I’ll be back I promise you,” Logan begged as he reached out to Laura.

Laura slapped Logan’s arm away and pushed at his shoulders. “No! I hate you! I hate you, Logan!”

Logan opened his mouth to speak before Hank interrupted. “Surely you don’t mean that Laura.”

Laura turned her body away from them, gripping her rabbit plush tightly and laying on the bed. Logan tried to call for her, catch her attention, or try to gain her trust once again. Laura only crawled away, sobbing into her pillow, hiding from Logan. Hank pulled Logan out and away from the bedroom as Logan tried to recollect himself.

“I thought she…. I thought she knew,” Logan whispered to himself. He wiped his hands across his face, they were shaking. 

“She doesn’t mean it, Logan. Children have very big emotions, she was only trying to express her confusion,” Hank tried to reassure him. “I can get Storm to check in on her. Are you going to be alright?”

“I’m fine,” Logan lied. “I’m fine. It’s Laura I’m worried about, please just focus on her.”

“... Maybe you should stay for tonight. In case she wants to see you again?” Hank put a hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“She’s not going to see me, I know her. She won’t,” Logan said. “I’ll just go. Let her… uh… let her call me? If you have a home phone here I’ll answer.” 

Logan turns to walk down the hallway, and when halfway down Hank calls out. “Logan. Now I am not one to judge, but I am concerned for the comments that were made. I need to know if these were made out of anger, or based off truth.”

Logan turned to Hank, scent turned hostile. Hank frowned and cocked his head in confusion. “I’m not a good man, McCoy.”

Quickly, Logan turned away from Hank and sped towards the front door. His mission towards escape made him miss the concerned looks from Rogue as he passed by her without a word. While on the road, alone with his thoughts and in a quiet car for the first time in a long moment, Logan allowed himself to shed a tear. A single thought gripped him as he drove from Westchester.

I need a drink.

Chapter Text

Logan didn’t go straight home like he should have, his first mistake. The gas tank to his pickup was low when driving back from Westchester, so he stopped for gas. As usual, he went inside to pay for however many gallons he needed and saw it as he traversed the store. That was his second mistake. Just one drink, he thought to himself. But the single cans were out of stock. The six-packs looked back at Logan through chilled glass.

It’s just beer, he thought. It’s not as bad as dark liquor. Logan paid for his gas and the beer, the cans were an extra weight Logan could feel on his shoulders. Yet Logan convinced himself he could keep his resolve. His third mistake was opening a can immediately after getting home. The apartment was quiet, and Laura’s scent was prominent within. Logan closed his eyes and downed the first beer. Just one drink. Just to take the edge off.

Logan was able to preoccupy himself for a couple of hours. As the beers chilled in the fridge, he cleaned the apartment of his messes. When the sun dropped and silence drove him mad, Logan opened the fridge to fix himself dinner. Of course, the beers were there, taunting him, calling out to him like a Greek chorus.

“Laura will hate me,” Logan said to himself.

She already does, the alcohol sang. Logan drank the second beer. And then the third. And then the fifth. And when he finished the last beer his hunger grew, but not for food. Tipsy with a brain full of static, Logan grabbed his leather jacket with his wallet and walked to the nearest bar.

Bar after bar, Logan drank until they kicked him out.

You’re a disappointment, Logan drowned it out. You can’t keep a promise, Logan gulped down a whiskey. Laura was right about you, he took a shot. You deserve a drink, he ordered a bottle.

Eventually, he found himself at his last bar. It was a blur to Logan then, the bartender seemed nice. Logan found a flier about cage fighting, he put it in his jacket pocket for later. The bartender led him out after a while, but it all went black from there. Logan woke up in his bed with a horrible hangover and a lighter wallet. Guilt clawed from within him like it was tearing at his organs. He covered his face with his hands and tried remembering everything before the blackout. On the floor, next to his mattress, was a handwritten note with a glass of water. Logan downed the water for his parched throat and read the letter.

You got really drunk, took you back home.
Hope you’re feeling better.
Text me xxx-xxx-xxxx

Xoxo - Wade

“Fuck,” Logan groaned.

———

“Dopinder, can you get the keg from downstairs for me please?” Wade whined. “My poor crippled arms hurt.”

“On it!” Dopinder raced down the small hatch leading to the cellar looking for a new keg.

Weasel, pointedly not doing anything, stood behind the bar with Wade and watched. “I just saw you carry like two kegs before opening.”

“But now I’m sore.”

“I’m still not paying him,” Weasel poured himself a drink.

“I give him the tip jar earnings after every shift,” Wade said. Dopinder was struggling as he dragged the heavy keg up the narrow stairs.

“I forgot we had one, how do you manage to get tips?”

“By showing off the goods. Oh, Cable!” Wade called out. Cable grunted and raised his head as Wade unzipped his hoodie and stuck his chest out. He gave him a little shimmy as he stuck his tongue out whorishly. Wade was clothed underneath but still managed to be obscenely provocative.

“Jesus, Wade,” Cable grumbled. Wade earned a wolf whistle from Vanessa and a crisp dollar bill.

“Thank you Ness, c’mon Cable support a small business?” Wade fluttered his eyes.

“I got a quarter.”

“I’ll take it!” Wade shouted as Dopinder managed the last haul up the stairs holding the keg.

“I did it!” Dopinder exclaimed.

“Oh my gosh thank you! You’re so strong,” Wade easily moved the keg where it needed to be with a quiet ‘owie’ with his sore arms.

The air settled within the bar, it was busy during weekends with crowds rushing in from the underground fights. When the late hours started to turn early, and the crowds started to filter out, Wade was left with only a handful of people. Cable, who insisted on driving him home, Weasel, who had nothing better to do, and Buck.

Wade was chatting with Cable and Weasel at the bar before James stumbled in. He could hear his powerful heartbeat thumping away, but it was different. It was erratic and churning. Wade watched him gently sway in place, like a drunk man playing sober, before snatching a flier and sitting at the bar. He noticed the tension coming off of Cable once James sat down. He completely ignored him but his nose scrunched in displeasure.

Wade looked at James, he started to see the signs of a supernatural presence. It was close to the full moon, werewolves all around were becoming hairier and angrier. The hair on James’s hands was thicker, his sideburns grew longer. What interested Wade the most was his cowlicks. Somehow they grew out into a point, like they were wolf ears at attention. It struck him then that his neighbor was a werewolf and an old one. Wade only hoped he could hide his own identity from him.

“Hey James, what can I get you?” Wade asked cautiously.

“Ughh… uh I’ll get a beer,” James slurred slightly.

“For sure,” Wade filled up a cup for him. “Here you go.”

“Thanks… how do you know my name, Bub?” James grumbled.

“Cause you told me silly,” Wade playfully slapped James’s hand, which was not gladly received by either Wolf. “Uh- I’m your neighbor remember? The cookies.”

“Oh… You’re Wade, right,” James mumbled to himself.

“Yeup,” Wade popped the P. James continued to drink in silence, occasionally asking for other drinks.

By the third straight whiskey, Wade nervously looked over to Weasel. Of course, he had no qualms about serving James drink after drink. His heartbeat was slurred like everything else about him, and his blood smelled toxic. The alluring scent was heavily dampened by the alcohol poisoning his blood. 

“Another one,” James mumbled.

Unwilling to lose a customer, Weasel reached for the bottle before Wade stopped his hand. “Actually, we’re closing soon.”

“What—,” Weasel questioned before being interrupted.

“Yup- so all taps are closed- all taps are closed folks!” Wade yelled out to the three people still at the bar. Only Buck grumbled as he silently left the bar.

“Oh… what… what time issit?” James asked.

Wade checked his adventure time watch. “Almost… four am.”

“Oh… thanks,” James threw his cash on the bar table before stumbling out.

Cable let out a shudder and bristled himself off from the interaction. “He’s bad fuckin’ news.”

“I don’t give a fuck what news he was, he was a paying customer Wade! What the fuck?” Weasel complained.

“He looked dead on his feet Wease, I’ll be surprised if he even remembers he was here in the first place,” Wade defended.

“Good! Allow me to scam the poor bastard off of a few extra bucks! I need it with the shit you people do to my bar, no offense Cable.”

“Offense taken dickwad,” Cable grunted. “Wade, are you leaving or what? I’ll drop you.”

“… no I… I’ll walk.”

Cable looked at Wade intensely. “… I don’t like that Wolf Wade.”

“You don’t gotta.”

“He is not safe to be around, I can smell it.”

“He… he has a kid okay? I just need to make sure he’s alright,” Wade said. “Plus I can’t die. What’s the worst that could happen.”

Wade grabbed his overcoat from the back closet and flipped Weasel off on the way out. A street away from the bar, and in the wrong direction to their apartment, Wade found James vomiting in a back alleyway. It seemed to sober him for a moment, but Wade was worried he’d pass out and fall into the puddle of his own sick. To spare him the disgustingly embarrassing moment, Wade grabbed James and led him away to check in on him.

“Hey there big guy, you remember it’s Wade?” He said. Wade only received a nod and a small moan. “You alright? You gonna be sick again?”

“… no,” James said definitively.

“Well, that’s good. Are you going back home? I can walk with you,” Wade suggested.

“You… yeah you… you have Althea,” James said wistfully.

“That’s right bud! C’mon, let’s get back. Do you know who’s watching your kid?” That seemed to be the wrong thing to say as Wade watched James crumble.

“No… she hates me. She’s at a school. I sent her away,” he said in anguish.

Wade frowned. “Uh, She’ll be alright! I'm sure she doesn't hate you! Kids are like that, they say shit sometimes.” 

Wade tried to reassure James, but he couldn’t break through whatever trance James seemed to be in. He wasn't sure why he was trying to console James. He was worried for Laura's well-being just as much as James's. Laura seemed like a sweet girl, though blunt and standoffish like her father the few times he had seen her. Logan was whispering to himself, she hates me, on repeat. To get them moving, Wade tried leading Logan down the sidewalk.

“C’mon Jimmy let’s get home,” Wade said, this immediately broke James from his trance.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Wade paused. The voice that came out of James was dark and full of rage. Wade took a step back, noticing how close they were after that menacing display.

“I- oh wow. Sorry peanut. What uh… what should I call you other than James,” Wade asked.

“Mm, Logan. My… you can call me Logan.” He said.

“Logan?” Wade questioned.

“It’s my name,” Logan said, back to the drunken haze.

“I like it, it suits you,” Wade said.

Wade was panting from the effort it took to carry Logan up the stairs to his apartment. He leaned Logan against the wall to give himself a break while he was mumbling to himself and swaying on his feet. Wade looked over to the floor window between their doors, the sky was starting to lighten as the sun rose.

“Alright, Logan… where are your keys?” Wade asked.

Logan reached into his jacket pocket and grabbed the keys he needed. With great effort, he pulled out the key that he needed and failed to get the key into the slot. Wade stood there, for a painful minute before trying to help.

“Do you… let me help,” Wade tried.

“No,” Logan slapped Wade’s hand away.

“You- just let me help you,” Wade reached for Logan’s hands only to be met with a terrifying growl. “Okay, Jesus. Just open the door.”

Once open, Logan immediately flops himself onto his futon. When remembering Wade was in his home, Logan lifts himself from the floor and lets out a half-hearted growl. Wade couldn’t help the surge of sympathy that passed through him as he watched. The home was bare, even more so in Logan’s room. Wade could pick out Laura’s influence throughout the home. A coloring book she left behind, the marker drawings on the hallway walls, and boxed mac and cheese on the kitchen counter. There were two empty plates in the drying rack.

Another weak growl startled Wade out of his trance. “Alright, sorry I’m leaving, honey badger.” Satisfied, Logan dropped himself back onto the futon to drift off to sleep. Quickly, before Logan noticed, Wade wrote a note, filled up a glass of water for Logan, and put it beside his sleeping form.

In his apartment, Wade sighed and leaned against the door. A tired Mary Puppins waddled herself from her bed towards Wade, awakened by the sounds of entry. She plopped herself right next to him and leaned against his leg. Wade slid down the door and ran his hand against Mary’s fur.

“Imagine if I didn’t have you. What would I do with myself,” Wade mumbled. “He’s struggling too. Any normal girl would have gotten the ick after seeing that, huh Mary?”

Mary huffed in her sleep. Wade hummed once again as he watched the sun start to rise through the blinds.

“But we aren’t normal are we girl,” Wade sighed. “It’s kind of fucked, isn’t it. I always end up attracted to people more fucked up than me. What does that say?”

Once again, Wade received no answer, but he was sure he already knew it.

“Jesus, this should have been tagged as angst by now.”

———

Laura wasn’t having a good time. She was in a new environment, with new people, and new smells again. She was alone and struggling, and none of the other Wolves seemed to like her. Of course, she never made any effort to be friendly with them either. They were strange Wolves, and Logan told her to always be careful around strange Wolves.

Rogue and Storm seemed to be the most concerned for her. They were the first ones to help her whenever she couldn’t sleep, which was every night. The first to clean up her accidents when they happened. This embarrasses Laura, she was ten years old and wetting the bed. She thought she would have grown out of it after a year with Logan. Yet here, without him, she’s afraid. She can’t control herself, and the moon is starting to sing to her again.

The first morning it happened Storm had come in to wake the kids and get them ready. When Laura refused to leave the bed, she peeled the blanket away before letting out a pitied sound Laura hated. She quickly reassured her, helped her clean up, and made it seem like it never happened. Every time.

In the morning, during breakfast, she barely eats. All the food has the wrong texture and the wrong taste. Logan would have gotten it right, but she doesn’t have Logan anymore. Rogue tries to coax Laura into eating a little oatmeal. It’s plain, with a little honey for sweetness, but Laura can’t get herself to eat.

“C’mon sugar, just one more big bite. Can you do that for me?” Rogue begs. Laura shakes her head, picking at the strawberry tops with her fingers. “Would you like more strawberries?”

Laura nods, and happily Rogue leaps up to grab them for her. She hasn’t spoken a word in three days. She only trusts Charles, who suggests that she write a letter to Logan, but she refuses. She wouldn’t know what to say, nothing had happened the past few days that hadn’t been embarrassing for her. Often she’ll sit in silence in Charles’s office after class, eating the shortbread cookies that he offers her from his desk.

“They were his favorite,” He would say, and Laura would savor every bite.

The worst day was the full moon. All the wolves at the school were allowed to shift past curfew under Hank’s supervision. Laura was skittish, she was bigger than the other Wolves, and that made her a target. She was guarded, she mostly stuck around Hank.

When she snuck around to find a quiet place to sniff around, she was cornered. Three big Wolves came towards her. They were the biggest ones in her age group, but not as big as her. Their wolves wanted to scare her, make her smaller, make her nonthreatening. Their ears went flat as they let out their feeble growls. In Laura’s mind, she knew this wasn’t a serious threat. It was a test of boundaries, she was new and they had to make sure she would follow the rules.

But Laura’s wolf? She hated them, her fur bristled. She showed her teeth as she snarled. She was menacing, just like her dad. And just like Logan, when they barked, she scratched.

She didn’t mean to. She had forgotten the silver in her claws, she didn’t know the dance Wolves played. So when Hank tore them away from each other, and Laura was sent to sit alone in the sitting room, she cried again. Harder, and more frightened. She was alone, and she had assured that. She had defended herself, but it was then she realized she acted too harshly.

She was just like her father, Feral and free. Feral but alone. They called Logan the next day, he was too busy to drive up to Westchester, but he promised to see her that weekend. Laura refused to be on the phone. And yet, at the end of the week when she felt her loneliest, someone sat next to her during lunch.

“Hey…,” The kid greeted. “I’m Russell.”

Laura ignores him, nibbling at her ham and cheese sandwich. A chocolate pudding cup slides into view, she pauses mid-bite before her eyes flick over to Russell.

“I hear you’re the scariest kid in here,” Russell explained. “I’m a bad kid too you know. We have to stick together. We could be a team.”

Laura rolled her eyes before taking the pudding cup. “Is that a yes?” Laura nods. “Yesss! We can run this shit. Everyone will respect us together, you know. All the bad guys have codenames we should have one too. I can be… Firefist! How about you?”

Laura ate her pudding cup in silence as she listened to Russell ramble. She didn’t want to be a villain, but Russell’s concept of villainy seemed so comical it amused her. She found herself thinking about a codename, she considered all the names she’d had. Subject, Asset, Number 23, X-23, Laura. She didn’t like thinking about her life before Logan and was sure she didn’t want it to define her in this fake villain group.

Instead, she turned to Logan and the names he’s had. A lot of them were insults, Howlett, James… she remembered the times he’d take her to The Cage. When she refused to go to sleep and begged to follow him to where he’d go. She’d watch him get drunk and tear Wolves down one by one. He’d regret it after Laura got into a fight at school, using the same moves he’d done. His moniker, her father’s title.

“Wolverine,” her voice was raspy from the nonuse.

“What was that?” Russell asked, stopping his rant.

“Wolverine. That will be my name,” She said with finality.

“... that’s awesome,” Russell said in awe. Laura simply nodded, finished her pudding cup, and took her plate away to be cleaned.

———

Logan knocked on the neighbor’s door with a heavy hand. It was a few days since he sobered up from that night and all he could feel was immense guilt. Needing to reconcile with himself and his neighbor, he brought himself over to give a proper apology.

Althea opened the door with a grumble. “Who the hell is it?”

“It’s James,” Logan said. Althea’s face immediately brightened up into a wide smile.

“James! How are you baby, why didn’t you say anything sooner? Come in, come in,” Althea led Logan inside.

The apartment was cluttered from floor to ceiling in most places. Antique and hastily built Ikea furniture filled the room. The blinds were closed with only a sliver of light passing through them. At the center of the room was a pullout couch with a sleeping form resting on it.

“Wade! Wade get up we got guests!” Althea shouted as she tapped at Wade’s back.

“Tell them I’m naked,” Wade said with weak annoyance.

“It’s James.” Immediately, Wade’s head rose to turn towards the door with a look of horror.

“Why didn’t you lead with that,” Wade asked in disbelief. “I’m so sorry.”

Wade got up to straighten up his space. Logan couldn’t help but notice the bright pink and red heart pajama pants that Wade had on and nothing else. He was surprised at the physique, he was built with lean muscle and not the bulk Logan had on himself. Smooth pale skin raked across the fluffy red blanket. At some point, Wade gave up on trying to tidy up before turning to Logan with his hands on his hips.

“Hi…” Wade greeted awkwardly.

“Hello… I wanted to talk to you,” Logan said.

“Oh god,” Wade whined to himself quietly.

“Alright, I’ll get the tea going,” Althea announced as she walked towards the kitchen.

Seeing the confusion Wade reassured Logan. “We have an electric kettle. She’s more prone to hurt me than herself out of spite.”

Logan nodded, he stood awkwardly in silence. “Uh… about the other night—“

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Wade said quickly.

“I feel the need to clear some things up, about myself,” Logan said before pausing. He took another gaze at Wade’s pristinely white skin and then took in his scent. It was dark, sweet like death, and cold. “And yourself maybe.”

Wade blinked and then let out a small frown before schooling his face back to neutral. “The bar? It’s human-owned, Wease is more likely to sell a guy out who’s short on their tab, not because they’re… different. There isn’t anything to worry about.”

“Fully human owned?” Logan asked.

Wade paused. “Yeah… why?”

Logan’s nose scrunched at the obvious lie. “Really? Why do you smell like death?” He said bluntly.

Without pause, Wade says, “it’s probably the cancer.” In a weak voice, guilt flooded into Logan’s body where the hubris had once taken place.

“Oh… I am… so sorry,” Logan says. The confession completely throws him off. He could smell the disease radiating off of Wade, and his pale skin and sunken features gave way to proof of this.

“I well… I’m… in remission? I guess, it’s complicated. But my immune system is fucked right now so… night shift yay,” Wade awkwardly coughed. “God that always brings the mood down.”

“I was just paranoid I guess,” Logan explained. “I’m sorry you had to see me in that state I’m not usually like that.” Logan flinches at his lie.

“You’re not the first drunk I’ve dealt with, I’m a bartender after all,” Wade reassures. “I’m sure it’s been rough for you, huh?”

“James! How’s Laura, Mary’s been missing her on our walks,” Althea asks as she strolls into the living room, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

“Uh… she’s been… she’s having a hard time being on her own,” Logan confesses. “Unfortunately, she took after her father and got into a fight at school.”

“I bet you’re a fighter,” Logan heard Althea whisper as she led Logan to the couch by the arm. “Wade go put a shirt on we have a guest.”

“How would you even know that,” Wade whined.

“Cause you’re ashy and I can hear your dry ass skin rubbing against each other,” Althea started.

“Althea!”

“‘Bout to start a damn fire if you move too quickly- and don’t ‘Althea’ me because I know I told you to start putting that lotion on before you went to bed! Leaving your dead skin cells on my couch!” Althea ranted.

Incredibly embarrassed, and highly offended, Wade gapes and turns away from the both of them. “You are so embarrassing. In front of James! Really?”

A smug face graced Althea’s features. “I am your mother after all.”

“... You’re the worst. I’m putting a shirt on.” Wade grumbles away.

“Uh… I probably won’t be able to stay for very long, I have work in the morning,” Logan awkwardly announced.

“It’s alright sugar, you stay as long as you want,” Althea said happily.

She leaned in close to Logan as she chatted away about something he couldn’t make sense of. The house smelled like warm baked goods, it permeated every inch of the apartment. The scent wasn’t coming off of Althea, but it clung to the recently used blanket. When Wade came out of the bedroom, fully clothed in a hoodie, a shirt, and pajama pants, Logan attached the sweetness to him. That putrid sweet smell of a corpse recontextualized into a sick man with a habit of baking. When Althea heard the kettle, she happily hopped her way over to the kitchen.

Wade put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah I’m just… sorry,” Logan responded distantly.

“Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. Your big ol nose just got confused is all, it's understandable,” Wade joked as he fidgeted, he did that a lot around Logan. “I mean, at the place I work at no wonder. What did you think I was, a zombie? I feel like one sometimes.”

Logan hummed. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing I’m a stranger too, c’mon. What was your first guess?”

“... A vampire.”

Chapter Text

Logan stumbled towards the mansion with a smoking cigar in his mouth. Logan could feel the early Call of the full moon, its light illuminated the ground he walked on. The lights to the mansion were off except for the first-floor foyer. Someone was waiting for him to get back, someone was hoping he would.

Logan held the decapitated head of the Vampire responsible for his grief and sorrow. He was soaked in blood, his hands were smeared in it. Blood-soaked jeans, an open button-up, and what was once a white tank top. The same outfit he wore to dinner three nights ago. The same outfit he wore when he disappeared. The door to the mansion opened as Rogue rushed out. She was so panicked she had forgotten her gloves, stopping herself before wrapping her arms around Logan. 

She took in his form, “Logan… oh my God I thought you died,” Rogue exclaimed. “Where were you? What did you do? We’ve been worried sick!”

Logan threw the head down at her feet. She gasped horribly as she backed away from it. 

“Tell Charles I handled it,” Logan said when he took the cigar from his mouth. Smoke bellowed from his lips. He sounded void like there was no soul to capture his tone. 

“What did you do Logan,” Rogue begged.

Logan thought about his answer. This coven of Vampires had become a pain, enthralling and killing large numbers of people and animals as they passed through towns and cities. Logan, Jean, and Scott were sent to apprehend them, under the impression that the coven was around ten people. 

They were wrong. The mission went horribly, and any hope that Scott had inherited Logan’s immortality faded with the light in his eyes. Their bond snapped, and as Jean died Logan couldn’t feel her presence. For the first time in three years, Logan was met with silence. He couldn’t escape, going in and out of consciousness as the coven used him as a replenishing blood bag. The lead vampire had considered himself a scientist, probing and poking at his discoveries when interacting with Logan. Forming Logan into the perfect guard dog. Forming the perfect soldier. 

He didn’t realize it, but Logan had lived in his state of despair for a year. When he finally escaped and made it back to Xavier’s there was nothing in his mind but hate and grief. He had missed their funeral. Their burial, their last moments above ground. Logan had his Pack, his Mates, torn away from him. 

“Pacifism wasn’t an option,” Logan said simply. 

Rogue stared at him in horror. “Logan your eyes they’re… they’re glowing.”

Logan felt the change. Gone were the glowing amber eyes of a pack lead, his blue glow solidified his status. Feral. The one thing Charles and Hank tried to prevent. Unfortunately for them, he was feral the moment he left with Victor. Only now, it’s uncontrollable. The moon was singing for him, its voice sounded like Jean.

“Goodbye,” Logan said. He ignored the pleas. He ignored the crying. This wasn’t his pack anymore, they’d died in the puddle of blood he left them in.

———

Wade swallowed nervously. “A vampire? That’s an interesting one, so Stephanie Meyer was right huh?”

“Who?” Logan questioned.

“Stephanie Meyer, Twilight, ‘this is the skin of a killer Bella,’” Wade mocked.

“Oh that movie,” Wade watched Logan contemplate for a moment. “Uh, not really, I just have a really bad history with them.”

“Oh, what happened... if you don’t mind me asking,” Wade quickly stumbled.

“I do.”

Wade blinked. “… Can vampires fly like in An Interview With The Vampire?” They can’t, Wade knew that, I’ve tried, but still, he feigned ignorance.

“Uh, no. Not that I’ve seen,” Logan said. “That would have been a bitch.” 

He mumbled the last part to himself so quietly that Wade wouldn’t have been able to catch it without his enhanced hearing. He’s killed one before, Wade thought to himself. Fear flashed through him, yet the morbid part of him found intrigue.

“What was that?” Wade asked.

“Hm? Nothin’,” Logan reassured. Althea came out of the kitchen with a couple of cups and an electric kettle in her hand. “Oh, Althea please let me.”

Wade watched as Logan got up from his seat and grabbed the kettle from Althea’s hands. She refused to let go of the mugs as he walked her way back into the living room. Wade watched as Althea made advances toward Logan, touching his shoulder and leaning in closer to him. What amused Wade was the lack of reciprocation. He watched as Logan leaned away from her touch, moving her hand from his bicep to his knee. 

“Oh, James! you seem like a handy man,” Althea giggled as she grasped the hand that led her away. “Are you in the trades?”

“I work as a mechanic ma’am,” Logan said respectfully.

“Oh stop with that ‘ma’am’ nonsense. And that’s a shame really, there’d been a leak in our bathroom faucet for months! Landlord won’t do shit about it, and the noise drives me as crazy as hearing this motherfucker talk all day,” Althea gripes.

Letting out an offended gasp, Wade clutched his non-existent pearls. “I have been uncharacteristically silent this entire conversation! It's like my writer doesn’t know how to write my dialogue, it’s getting sad.”

“You see what I mean?” Althea grumbled.

Logan looked at Wade with confusion before turning back to Althea. “I can still take a look if you’d like. I’m not a stranger to plumbing.”

“Oh that would be wonderful Logan, oh obviously not now, but whenever you have the chance to if you can,” Althea says. 

“I can come by on Monday if that’s alright?” Logan asked.

Althea slapped Logan’s arm with a giggle. “Oh, that’s more than fine dear.”

“I should get going,” Logan awkwardly said as he started to get up.

“Oh! Hold on, would you like some brownies? I made them the other day but I made too much,” Wade lied. He made enough for them to eat but he was willing to give up Al’s brownies for Logan. “Mom and I can’t finish it, but maybe you can give some to Laura if she’d like.”

Logan considered. “Uh… sure bub, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Thank you.”

Wade quickly packed another Tupperware for Logan, making sure not to accidentally add his laced confections. With a wide smile, he gave the Tupperware to Logan. He hoped his frigid body wouldn’t draw attention as Logan grazed his fingers on the container. 

“No problem, Honey Badger, I’ll see you around,” Wade said. He watched as Logan blinked, and stumbled over his words before nodding and leaving the apartment. 

“That was disgusting,” Althea said. 

Wade turned to look at Althea sharply. “I’m the disgusting one? You were practically assaulting the poor guy, I need an adult Althea!” Wade said in whispered yells. 

“I got him by the ropes, you’ll see.”

“I will, unlike you, with no eyes.”

“I have eyes motherfucker,” Althea grumbled.

“Then how are you blind?” Wade asked stupidly.

“Wade Winston Wilson, you take these goddamn cups out my table,” Althea, fully giving up on trying to reason with Wade. “Matter of fact, while you’re in that kitchen you can wash those dishes I told you to wash this morning.”

With a scowl, Wade grabbed the cups to take to the kitchen. “You know I lied when I told Logan you were my mother, you don’t actually have to act like you are.”

“It's the only way I’ve gotten you to do shit, and who’s Logan?”

“Oh you know, just a thing I get to call James 'cause you know… we’re close like that,” Wade said with a cocky voice. 

“Uh huh. Is that what you two were whispering about?”

“Uh… no,” Wade considered. “He came by the bar the other night.” There was silence as Wade continued to wash the dishes in the sink. If it weren’t for his enhanced hearing he would have been startled even more intensely by Althea sneaking on him.

“He what?” Althea asked urgently. “Which bar? The Rat’s?”

“Weasel's, and yes he was there,” Wade said.

“Well, what is he?”

“Oh my God Althea, you don’t just ask people what they are.”

“Well, do you know or not?”

“I do!”

“Does he know what you are?” Wade paused before continuing to wash his dishes in silence. “Oh my God, Wade.”

“Well, he guessed correctly,” Wade mumbled.

“So he knows?”

“Eeeeehhhhhhhhh,” Wade’s apprehensive screech left both Althea and Mary Puppins with the desire to run away from him.

“My God have mercy on my soul and finish the job this dumbass couldn’t do,” Althea prayed. 

“Hey, that is not nice. I’ll tell him… eventually… maybe… I’ll talk to Cable.” 

“I’ll pray for you, baby,” Althea said as she marched herself back into the living room.

———

Laura liked to explore the mansion whenever she could. During their free time, she’d grab Russell by his hoodie and drag him around the quiet places of the house. Russell enjoyed the adventures because it felt like something he wasn’t supposed to do. Laura looked around for anything that referenced her father. 

She found a closed-off section of the building, near where the staff would sleep. It was dusty, like an untouched tomb. There were cobwebs that strung along wall to ceiling, and the wallpaper was peeling, the maintenance never reached up here. Laura paused when she reached the door. The scent was faint partially nonexistent, but she knew this scent from anywhere. 

This room was Logan’s Claim, his territory. The scent was unique. It was not fully Logan but another Wolf as well. Laura leaned closer to the door and sniffed. Three people: two Wolves and something supernatural, similar to Charles but much more powerful. 

“Whoaaa, what do you think is inside?” Russell wondered out loud. 

Laura shrugged before opening the door. A burst of dust assaulted the two children, they waved their hands in front of their faces and sneezed. Inside was a bed, much bigger than average, two wardrobes, and a dusty couch near the window. Laura walked around the room, opening and closing drawers as if looking for something. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, kicked up by the unsuspecting visitors. 

“Are we stealing something from here? What is it? Is it cool,” Russell picked up a candelabra. “If this is silver we can sell it for a lot of money, I read about it on the internet during computer class. Oh, don’t worry I won’t chop your hands off.”

Ignoring Russell, Laura opened a drawer on the nightstand and paused. Face down with an intricate pattern was a photo frame. Laura picked up the photo and flipped it around, the first thing she saw was Logan. Much younger than the man she knew now, his hair was fuller and lacked the grays she was familiar with. He looked kempt and well taken care of while keeping a low level of gruff to his aesthetic. Next to him was a man with red-tinted glasses and a gentle smile. Logan and the man sat in chairs next to a standing woman, her hands on the back of each. The photo was faded, but not enough to take away the visual.

“Oh yeah well, that's not silver, but if you take the photo out you can resell the frame as vintage, whatever that means,” Russell explained as he tried and failed to stuff three candlesticks in his hoodie. “I think it just means really old, and a lot of the stuff here is really ancient anyway.”

Laura huffed and showed the photo to Russell, pointing at Logan and then herself. It took a moment to catch on before his eyes lit up with glee. 

“Oh my gosh! I don’t know how I didn’t see it before, you know the Wolverine! Or your dad is,” Laura nodded happily. “Oh yeah, he was epic in the Cages with his brother you know. Did you ever get to see him fight?”

Laura frowned, she looked back at the photo, looking at Logan once again. She couldn’t see the monster so many people considered him to be, especially in the ring. The people Logan knew told her a different story about his past, but she knew that she accompanied him at a low point in his life. 

“Fight?” She asked. 

“Yeah! I sneak out of my dorm whenever I can and go to the computer lab to watch the fights. If you scroll far enough you can find really old footage of the Sabertooth and Wolverine,” Russell informed. “They were like a killer team before they stopped working together in the Cages. They had a falling out I think, they fought once in the cage I read but it got so bloody it got taken down off the black web.”

“... you know a lot of useful things,” Laura said. Russell looked joyful at the compliment. Laura sniffed and smelled ozone and static. “Storm.”

“What?” Russell asked.

The powerful clacks of Ororo’s heels rang out from the hallway. Russell, immediately panicked, tries to hide the silver candle holders under his hoodie before trying to crawl underneath the bed. Laura watched Russell panic without worry before turning her head to look at the door.

“Who's in here? Laura? Russell,” Storm stated with great grievance. “You kids know better than to be up here where you shouldn’t be and without someone watching you.”

“Sorry, Ms. Munroe,” Russell said from the ground.

“Is that a candelabra in your hoodie Russell?” Russell shook his head. “Put it back. And what do you have Laura?” Laura showed the picture to Storm. Her eyes softened when she saw the frame, Storm walked forward and reached out towards the photo to gently take it in her hands. 

“Oh sweetheart… is this what you’ve been looking for? You know you can’t sneak around, hun,” Storm said gently, whatever resolve she had started to crumble at the sight of Laura’s tortured face. “I… oh boy… do you think this photo will help? Yeah? Alright… you can take it and show Logan when he visits okay?”

Happy with the decision, Laura tightly grasps the photo frame. Immediately, Russell starts to whine. “Why does she get to keep something and I don’t!”

“Russell, don’t push it. In fact, let’s all take a walk to Professor Xavier’s office alright?” Storm said as she started to herd the children out of the abandoned room.

As Russell groaned and whined, Laura kept her eyes on the picture. The man next to Logan didn’t look like him, she guessed this wasn’t the Victor she kept hearing about. Laura pondered momentarily, remembering the conversation when she first came here. The man who used to run with him, Scott. 

As Laura sat down at Charles’s office, waiting for him to come in, she pondered what “more” could mean between Scott and Logan. She had guessed the red-headed woman must have been Logan’s late mate, but Scott was different. He seemed to be more than just a friend. This confused Laura, to the best of her knowledge boys could only like girls. With a furrowed brow she put down the photo and ruminated over the possibilities, only half ignoring Charles’s slap on the wrist punishment for the kids. 

At night, when Rogue came in to check on Laura, the photo was placed gently on the pillow beside her. Cuddled up with her rabbit, Laura wished Rogue good night. 

“I’m not supposed to tell you until the morning but… I heard word that Logan might be visiting you tomorrow,” Rogue whispered happily. Laura’s eyes widened as she held her doll closer to her. 

“...Will he be mad at me?” Laura whispered. It had been a week since she’d seen or talked to him, her emotions were still quite high but regret filled her.

“What for sweetheart?” Rogue asked.

“I said I hated him.”

“Oh, I’m sure he knows you don’t mean that,” Rogue cooed. “You just have to let him know you’re sorry okay?”

“Okay,” Laura agreed. 

“Alright, goodnight little munchkin,” Rogue gave Laura a reassuring pet before closing the light and leaving the room. 

Laura turned to face the wall in her bed, her bunny wrapped itself around the picture frame. “Goodnight, Papa.”

Chapter Text

Fear coursed through Logan’s veins as he sat in the parking lot. The brownies Wade had given him sat in the driver’s seat. He had contemplated on bringing flowers but cringed at the thought of a dramatic display. He berated himself at his tension. He was petrified about meeting his ten-year-old daughter. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Logan grabbed the tupperware and opened the door to the truck. It was a calm Saturday morning, he could hear the children playing in the yard as he walked towards the door.

A familiar buzz, like fresh laundry on his head, spread out over his brain. Inviting. Asking for permission like a gentle knock on the door. Logan leaned into the feeling, allowing Charles into his mind. She has been waiting for you, Charles's voice rings. She is excited.

Relief filled his body, a breath Logan wasn’t aware he’d been holding as we released. I thought she hated me, Logan thought. A soothing wash of emotion filled him, as he knocked on the door. Almost immediately, the door to the manor opened with great effort. Rogue was a few feet behind the door with a joyous expression as she watched Laura pull the door open. 

“Hey kid— oof,” Laura pounced on Logan into a tight hug. Logan bent over to wrap Laura in his arms. “Hey, kid.”

Laura held on to Logan tightly, mumbling into his shirt. Logan took a knee and gently detached himself from Laura to take a look at her. It had only been a week but he could tell the stress that she had been through. She seemed lighter, there were bags under her eyes and her frown was deeper. 

“I’m sorry Papa,” Laura said to Logan.

Logan gently shushed her. “No no sweetheart you don’t have to apologize it’s okay,” Logan watched Laura roughly scrub the constant tears that streamed down her face. “Hey, look what I brought.”

Laura looked at the Tupperware. “Brownies… from the neighbor?”

“Yeah, he gave them to me for you. Mary misses you you know,” Logan replied. 

“I missed Mary too,” Laura said.

From behind, Rogue let out a gentle cough. “Would you like to go to Laura’s room first or would you like to meet with the professor?”

“Uh, whichever she wants to do. Laura?”

“... I want to show you something,” Laura said as she reached for Logan’s sleeve.

“Alright, what is it?” Logan asked.

Without a word, Laura led Logan through the mansion. Logan could tell the urgency Laura had for whatever she was going to show him. Once in the room, Logan took notice immediately. On her bed, right next to her rabbit plush, was a framed photo of Scott, Jean, and him. Logan paused at the doorway in shock. From behind him, Rogue placed a grounding hand on his back.

Laura picked up the photo proudly, showing it to Logan with a huge smile on her face. Logan couldn’t move, he couldn’t react. At some point within the twenty years he’s been absent, he had forgotten their faces. It had taken a lot of work and a lot of alcohol to get to that point, but at the time it was the only thing that quelled his Wolf’s sorrow. Though Logan knew he couldn’t completely forget them. Their scents still sit in his nose, sending waves of grief through him with every memory. 

“Papa?” Laura questioned. Her scent dampened like she was worried or scared. 

“I… uhm… Is this what you wanted to show me,” Logan asked. Laura nodded. “Wow… Where’d you find this?”

“Looked for you,” Laura said simply. “Who is she?”

Logan looked at where Laura had pointed at in the photo. “That’s Jean. Jean Grey.”

“Your mate,” Laura said definitively.

A shocked chuckle escaped from Logan despite his whirlwind of emotion. “Yeah, she was. I loved… I love her very much. And Scottie too,” Logan said wistfully.

“You were a boykisser?” Laura asked as if a secret. A poorly hidden snort escaped from Rogue who immediately went to hide away her laughter. Logan, shocked but amused, took a moment to lead Laura to the bed and sit down with her. He placed the Tupperware at the foot of the bed so she could eat it later. 

“Uh… yes, Laura I am. Where did you learn that?” Logan asked.

Laura shrugged. “School.”

Logan turned to face the doorway as a red-faced Rogue came back. “Is this what you’ve been teaching my child?”

“I swear on my life Logan no one has ever uttered a word like that in her presence at this school,” Rogue said in between fits of laughter. 

“Alright,” Logan started. “Thank you for finding this Laura… they would have loved you very much.”

Laura looked at the photo before looking back at Logan. “How can you love someone when they’re gone?”

Logan paused and took a breath. It was hard having emotional conversations from the start. But when Logan looked at Laura he saw himself. He saw the patterns he didn’t want repeated. One of those hard steps was actually confronting difficult emotions.

“You remember them, Laura,” Logan said. “Those kinds of feelings don’t go away. I still love my brother, but I never want to see him again. But I remember him, and I remember growing up with him.”

Laura took her time to consider his words before looking down at the photo. “Is she my real mom?”

“No, Laura. I don’t think she is,” Logan said regrettably. “C’mon, let's go see Chuck, yeah?” he prompted. Laura gently placed the photo back on her pillow before holding onto Logan’s finger to walk with. 

Storm and Hank were already in Charles’s office when the three reached them. On a plate on Charles’s desk was a pile of shortbread cookies. Laura was first to grab a tight handful and eat them as if she were starving. Logan reprimanded the behavior with a look before looking at the cookies. Logan hadn’t had these in a very long time, pointlessly restricting many pleasures in his life in grief. They were his favorite, buttery and not too salty. Logan had long learned to associate the scent with Charles. 

“I’m sorry, she gets food aggressive sometimes, we’re working on it,” Logan said and then slipped a cookie into his mouth. 

“Really? It's one of the only things she’ll eat these days,” Storm questioned. 

Logan frowned. “What do you mean? Has she not been eating?”

“Laura has been through a large amount of stress this week, Logan. Not uncommon for children with her past or her age,” Charles reassured. 

“I’ve been making sure to give her lots of the foods she can eat! She really likes strawberries,” Rogue said.

An aching pit grew in Logan’s stomach. He looked at Laura who seemed content in ignoring the adults around her and eating her cookies. He had known Laura was struggling but not to the extent he thought she was. A feeling of inadequacy filled him. How could I have not known, he thought.

“Is there… anything else I should know? I know she got into a fight with the other pups, what happened with that?” Logan asked.

“The child is fine. The silver shocked them but it was only a nick, thank goodness,” Hank said. “But she has made a friend here!”

“Good,” Logan breathed a sigh of relief. 

“There have been some issues regarding sleep, I won’t fully get into it right now but is there something we should know that would help?” Storm asked. 

“Has it… has she been…” The silence from both Rogue and Storm was enough to answer his question. “Ah. Usually, her nightlight should help. Is it plugged in where she can see it?”

“She has a nightlight?” Storm asked. 

Logan turned to Laura. “Sweetheart, where’s your moonlight?”

“Hid it,” Laura mumbled.

“Why’s that?”

“Too big for one,” Laura said.

“Who said that?” Laura shrugged. 

With a sigh, Logan turned back to Storm. “It should be in one of her bags, I made sure to pack it. Plug it in if you can, and Laura,” Logan placed a gentle hand on her head. “Don’t worry about those other kids alright?” 

Again in silence, Laura only gave Logan a nod. Worried but satisfied, Logan turned back towards the group to continue their conversation. Towards the evening, the group moved themselves to the open field. Logan watched as Laura ran and dug around in the forested area, occasionally telling her not to eat any mysterious plants she found. Storm came up beside Logan with a gentle smile.

“... Thank you for looking out for her,” Logan said.

“Oh you know you don’t have to thank me for that,” Storm reassured. “You know this is a side to you I’m happy to see again. All soft.”

Logan chuckled. “Ah well… It took me a bit to get here. You have Laura to thank for that.”

“I bet,” Storm continued to watch over Laura in silence.

“Hank mentioned Laura made a friend here?” 

Storm paused, before looking at Logan. “She has yes. His name is Russell, he’s a little older. Very imaginative.”

“Imaginative how?’ Logan asked. “He isn’t trouble is he?”

“No no, you don’t have to worry about that,” Storm said. “They, Russell and Laura, have this game they play I think. They pretend to be villains like in a comic book, but really I have yet to see any real villainy from them. It doesn’t seem to be Laura’s game of preference but she indulges him.”

“Hmm,” Logan frowned. 

“Oh don’t be grumpy, they’re just kids playing pretend,” Storm placed a hand on his shoulder. “I mean they even have cute code names and everything.”

“Codenames?”

“Yeah. I’ve heard Russell goes by Firefist. I know this because he insisted I call him that once.”

“What about Laura?”

“Oh that one is cute, she named herself after you! The Wolverine,” Storm chuckles. “Like dad like daughter hm? I was surprised after what happened last weekend, but she really does love you Logan- Logan?”

Logan was still. His breathing was shallow, and sounds started to muffle. Nothing else processed in his head once he heard that name. Villain and Wolverine. It was synonymous, wasn’t it? Everything associated with the moniker: failure and bloodlust. Logan could feel a warm fuzz washing over his brain. A gentle hand trying to calm him, an open door welcoming Logan inside. Charles’s presence tries to reach out to him to calm his mind. Logan immediately shut the connection.

“Logan? What’s wrong?” Charles asked. All eyes were on him.

Logan shuffled where he stood. “Nothin’,” he said gruffly. “I uh… I’m gonna say goodbye to Laura.” 

Logan walked off to where Laura was without another word. As gently as he could, he hugged Laura and told her goodbye. Of course, he expected the whining and the begging. It broke Logan’s heart to leave, but he couldn’t stay. His heart was aching in a way too familiar feeling. He was a monster, he was a villain, and even his sweet Laura could see it.

In the car, Logan didn’t break down. He didn’t break down at the random bar he stopped at either. In the middle of his second beer at the bar he crawled into after getting kicked out, he pulled out an advert he had stuffed in his leather jacket while drunk. A weekly underground cage match was taking place, and Logan was starting to think he needed the cash.

———

It was a pathetic scene to watch. A desolate abandoned crack house with a singular moldy mattress on the floor surrounded by dirt and trash. Roaches and other bugs scuttled by and around a weeping Wade Wilson. He was holding a dead rat, devastated. He sobbed into the blood-soaked fur and wailed without abandon. When he felt the press of a gun to the back of his head he had no will to fight.

“If you can find a way to make it work just do it,” Wade begged.

“… are you crying over a rat?” The mysterious man questioned.

Offended, Wade stopped his crying to turn and glare. “She was my friend!” He said before weeping once more. “I didn’t mean to. I was just so hungry.” The man kicked Wade over onto his back. Wade only grumbled as he lay there accepting his fate. 

“Where’s the rest of you?” He said.

“I’m pretty sure my soul is in hell, and my dick is attached to me last time I checked,” Wade answered.

“Your coven, dumbass.”

“I don’t have an oven!” Wade said distressed.

“The hell is a fledging doing on its own huh? You’re on Wolf territory you know that kid,” the man asked. “Let me ask you again. Where is your coven and what are you doing alone? Don’t piss me off.”

“Is that a threat or a promise mystery man,” Wade asked.

“I’m getting pissed off.”

“Alright man, fuck,” Wade flinched where he lay. “I don’t know! I have nowhere else to go. I’ve been trying to die but nothing has been working. Garlic is just garlic, a stake to the heart is like a rejected piercing, being in the sun feels like standing in a deep fryer but nothing works!”

“Jesus,” The mystery man winced.

“I’ve been trying to starve but…” Wade’s voice cracked. “I thought I was asleep, but I woke up and I ate Blanche.”

The man looked at the dead rat in Wade’s hands. It was a common street rat, smaller than average and missing a leg. It had been dependent on him before it died. He sighed before putting his gun away. 

“You know someone named Vanessa?” The man asked, and before Wade could answer, “And don’t lie, I can tell.”

“I… It’s a common name… perhaps.”

“Alright, let me be specific then,” the man crouched down in front of Wade, he showed off his elongated canines in a growl. “Are you Wade Wilson?”

“You have to tell her I’m dead,” Wade pleaded.

“Why?”

“Because I am. Because I can’t control myself, I almost hurt her,” Wade said.

“Brave set of words to use.”

“Then kill me. Please.” The mystery man pulled himself away before going to stand. He looked at Wade with an expression he always hated. Pity.

“Here. Go there at night, there’s a nice young lady who helps,” the man pulled a card from his pocket. It had the address of a local blood bank with the words ‘12-2 am’ written in permanent marker. “I don’t know where you’ll go but you can’t stay here.”

Wade called out as he watched the mystery man leave, “Wait! Who are you? What was that whole thing about?”

“You can call me Cable.” 

“Nathaaaan, hi!” Wade stood at the door to Cable’s apartment with a large smile. He was expertly wrapped from head to toe in a protective layer of clothing. He was looking at Cable through a thick pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap.

“What- Wade the sun is still out the fuck are you doing here,” Cable said urgently as he pulled Wade into his apartment. “And is that my hat, I’ve been looking for that.”

Wade let himself be moved around without protest. The baseball cap was roughly taken from his head as he was plopped onto the couch. The apartment was as bare as expected, with the only bits of personality being from the gifts accrued throughout the years. Most of the gifts were from Wade, proudly displayed throughout the home. 

“Hi,” Wade said sweetly.

“... Hi. The fuck do you want?” Cable asked.

“Well, this may or may not be about my new crush,” in a rare show of shame, Wade avoided Cable’s gaze.

“Your crush? The Feral Wolf? Wade.” Cable sighs as he migrates towards his fridge. 

“I would appreciate it if the insults were kept at a minimum sugar plum, I want you to like him! Eventually… marginally.” Wade huffed as he crossed his arms in his seat. 

“Okay let’s make one thing very clear. It is an objective fact he is Feral. You may not be able to tell, but I can,” Cable said firmly. “The only reasons why I haven’t made a whole deal about this is because; he has a kid, and both you and Frank seem to like him.”

“Frankie has met him?” Wade asks, curious to know more about Logan.

“He works with him at the shop apparently,” Cable puts down a coke and a beer for them to drink. 

“Interesting,” Wade grabs the coke to take a large sip as Cable sits down next to him.

“What were you going to ask Wade?” 

“Oh! Logan, the new guy, guessed I was a vampire the other night.” Wade watched Cable choke on his beer.

“And I’m assuming you’re still in high spirits because you lied?”

“I didn’t lie! I just said I had cancer to explain the very potent smell of death, which is true!” Wade defended. “I just omitted the fact I am a walking corpse.”

“Jesus,” Cable put his head in his hand. 

“And I was just wondering how bad of a reaction it might be If he were to find out the truth?” Wade said innocently into his coke. 

“How’d he react when he guessed you were a vampire?”

“Like it was a slur almost.”

“You’re fucked.” Cable said simply. “If you couldn’t find a way to end it, he will.”

“Wow, so reassuring.”

“Wade, I don’t think you fully understand the gravity of the words I’m saying right now,” Cable stressed.

“I get it! Dangerous man or whatever, I’m not exactly a saint Nathan.”

“When I saw you the first time in that crack house,” Cable started.

“Good thing we started with that flashback,” Wade mumbled. 

“I saw you as a threat. As weak and starved as you were, my instinct perceived you as a threat,” Cable continued. “But I didn’t progress any further because I pitied you.”

“Ow.”

“And then I trusted you. I was able to do that because I am in control of my instincts,” Cable emphasized. “For a Wolf, their instincts aren’t just a feeling, it is an actual entity they live with, that I have to keep in check.”

“And you’re saying Logan… does not have that control,” Wade asked.

“Wade, if he perceives you as a threat, he will not be able to appropriately control his reaction. And if he sees you as a threat to his daughter?” Cable let the ending hang in the air. 

Uncomfortable, Wade chugged the rest of his coke. He let out a loud belch before speaking again. “I won’t let that happen.”

“But you’re still going to pursue this?”

“I won’t let it happen,” Wade said firmly.

“Jesus,” Cable sighed. “Why? Why do you want this?”

“I don’t know,” Wade remembered Logan's drunken state. He saw the humanity through the mess in him, and the embarrassment from the week after that incident. “Like you said, pity I guess.”

Cable looked at Wade with something close to pain. He grabbed his beer and chugged half of it before sighing. Wade knew Cable didn’t love him like he had loved Vanessa, in the romantic sense. But the fierce protectiveness Cable had for Wade only intensified during the years after their breakup. Wade leaned in close to him and wrapped his arms around Cable’s shoulders. Wade welcomed the subtle rub of skin as a comfort. 

“I won’t get hurt, Nathan.”

“You can’t promise that.” 

“I can’t. But it isn’t the first time I’ve lied, hm?” Wade joked.

“I’ll rip his throat out if he does.” Cable threatens.

“As hot as that sounds I really don’t want to get caught in that crossfire sugarbear,” Wade leans in closer.

“Alright… This is going to be a problem if you’re going to pursue him.” Cable pulled away from Wade. 

“What? Why?”

“You can’t court a Wolf smelling like another Wolf, that means giving back my clothes you stole.”

“Ughhh there’d so many rules! This sucks!” Wade whined.

“This is what you chose,” Cable chuckled as he looked out the window. The sun was setting. “You eat yet?”

“No but I got a packet waiting for me at home,” Wade said. Cable grunted in acknowledgment. “... Let’s watch the Golden Girls.”

Cable handed Wade the remote with a quiet ‘alright’. He made it a point the rest of the night to keep a distance from Wade. Of course, Wade decidedly ignored this, leaning and sprawling all over Cable and his furniture. 

———

Jimmy… Jimmy

Logan could hear Victor’s voice ringing like church bells in his head. Clear, sharp, and disorienting. 

Jimmy…

He could hear him over the loud crowd cheering and booing. He could hear his brother taunting him after every punch and scratch he made. 

Jimmy… Bite his throat out, Jimmy.

But it wasn’t Victor. It was one of the many influences of his upbringing. There was a time when Logan’s Wolf sounded like himself, a time where Wolf and Self had melded seamlessly. When he rejected Victor and left to be on his own that seam cracked. Victor’s voice started to slip in, telling him to feed into his worst emotions. When he met Scott that crack healed, he could hear himself again but also Scott’s influence.

Now it’s all gone. A heavy right hook on Logan’s cheek only disoriented him for a second. He couldn’t feel the pain with his adrenaline this high, and the alcohol coursing through his body. Jimmy, his Wolf said. Rip his head off, Jimmy. Logan held nothing back. Punching and scratching at a random Wolf. When the bell rang ending the round Logan immediately pulled himself away into his corner. It was the only amount of self-control he could afford himself. Sweat was pouring from him mixing in the blood.

A different bell rang, and the fight was over. Logan looked over to the Wolf who was now on the floor. He won. The referee moved to hold his hand up victorious only to keep a short distance from Logan. He had won, which should have been enough to satisfy his Wolf, but Victor wanted blood. Victor wanted someone dead. Logan decided to drown it out with whiskey. 

With a paper bag over the bottle of whiskey he bought, Logan walked out of the liquor store with it already open. He guzzled down a large portion of the bottle just to silence the last remnants of Victor in his head. His vision swam, and the noises of the city were slurring together. But he didn’t care. He wandered in a random direction, if he couldn’t find his home he’d find a nice alleyway to knock out in. For a few minutes, there was silence, then a voice sang to him. Logan looked up at the night sky. It was cloudy but the light of the moon still leaked through in rays. It shined on the concrete like a revelation. 

Logan… the voice whispered. Logan stared at the moon in shock. Logan…

“...Jean?” Logan questioned. 

Logan… What's wrong Logan? The clouds moved to reveal more of the moonlight. It was full, strange Logan thought. It was a full moon last week, yet here he was staring at the full moon with the voice of Jean Grey consoling him. 

“I miss you...” Logan’s voice cracked. “I miss you and Scottie so much.”

You poor thing, Logan could feel her like a ghost standing in his presence. Let’s get you home sweetheart. 

———

Wade wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking at. After the long Golden Girls binge watch, which turned into a Meet the Jeffersons binge watch because Cable was Old™, Cable and Wade walked out of the apartment. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk talking to the streetlamp stood Logan. Wade could hear the slurred speed Logan’s heart raced with the stench of alcohol poisoning him. 

“Jesus… Is that your guy?” Cable mumbled. 

“... Like I said… pity,” Wade sighed. Slowly, Wade walked towards Logan with a gentle voice. “Heyyy Peanut.”

Logan sniffed the air before turning to Wade. There was a gentle growl before he leaned into Wade's space for another sniff. He stumbled for a second when he lost his balance but corrected himself quickly.

“Wade?” Logan mumbled.

“That’s right Peanut!” Wade encouraged. 

“You smell like cookies,” Logan slurred then sniffed again like a foul smell reached his nose. “And Wolf.”

“Uh… Yeah, this is Cable. Cable meet Logan, Logan meet Cable,” Wade gently pulled Logan closer to Cable. “Oh my gosh, it’s like introducing your dogs through a bathroom door.” 

“Wade.” Cable grumbled. 

Something Cable didn’t expect introduced itself. What he anticipated to be a hostile interaction with drunk Feral Wolf was a show of submission. Logan’s head was bowed, and he took a step away from Wade as if meaning no trouble. Wade cooed over Logan to make sure he was okay.

“It’s okay Honey Badger he’s just a big meanie but he won’t hurt you!” 

“Wade that’s a grown man quit babying him and let’s go,” Cable grumbled.

“Yeah yeah. Logan? Do you know where you are? You look beat up, did you get into a fight?” 

“Victor wanted me to kill him,” Logan mumbled.

“I’m sorry?” Wade squeaked.

“What?” Cable took a step forward.

“Victor wanted me to kill him. But I didn’t,” Logan pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. “But I won.”

“He’s a cage fighter,” Cable stated. Wade watched the proud smile tug at Logan’s face and shivered. A morbid sense of pride filled him. 

“Wow, good job Peanut. Why don’t I take you home?” Wade shrugged at the look Cable gave him.

Logan grumbled before nodding. Wade watched as he took a large swig of the bottle in his hand and started walking in a direction. 

“Wrong way Peanut,” Wade lead Logan away from the street and back on the sidewalk. “Hold onto me, alright. You don’t have to come Cable.”

“I’m coming.”

“Oh, are you?”

“Wade.”

“Alright sorry, let’s go.”

By some miracle, Wade was able to lead Logan back to their apartment safe and sound. Cable waited at the door to Logan’s apartment out of respect as he watched Wade lead him inside. When he came back Wade looked at Cable solemnly. 

“Can you tell Althea I’ll be staying here tonight? I don’t think it’s safe to leave him right now.”

“You’re not his babysitter Wade, he’s a grown man he can make his own choices.”

“I wasn’t asking for permission about what I’m going to do, I asked you to tell Althea I won’t be home tonight,” Wade said firmly. “But I appreciate your broodiness shielding your concern Sugarbear.”

Cable sighed before holding his hand out. “Give me the keys.”

“Thank youuu, goodnight Nathan!”

“Yeah yeah, fuck off Wade.” 

Chapter Text

The house has been silent since Logan returned to the mansion. The initial burst of emotion had died down into something much more eerie. Logan has been drinking, which isn’t unusual for him, but the concern is the amount he has consumed, accompanied by the lack of outbursts. He was bottled up, holding all of his grief within him. Everyone was on high alert, handling Logan like a ticking time bomb.

Charles found him in his office late in the evening. The lights were off, but Logan didn’t need them to find the liquor cabinet. Charles rolled in silently and carefully, he didn’t reach out with his mind like he used to in fear of setting him off.  It had been three days since Logan stumbled back on their doorstep. Tattered and broken like an old stray. The relief Charles had felt quickly dissolved into fear. Not of Logan and certainly not for his life, but he could feel the waves of resentment and grief from Logan. He saw the same anger he had seen in Erik’s eyes many decades ago.

Charles stopped a few feet away from Logan, he didn’t dare turn on the light. Charles could hear Logan mumbling, he had been doing it more often since returning. Signs of Savagery, as archaic texts about lone and feral wolves described. Charles worked with Hank as much as he could to slow the effects, but he worried he was too late.

“… Logan,” Charles said softly. The mumbling stopped. “Logan… my boy, are you coming to dinner? Ororo made something special for you.”

Charles was met with silence. Logan poured himself another drink of the premium alcohol Charles had kept. He didn’t mind, Charles never could drink much after his injury anyway. 

“Why don’t you come downstairs… Rogue will be there, she’s excited to tell you about her studies,” Charles lured. 

“… no,” Logan mumbled. “No. No, I'm not doing that.” 

The words weren’t directed at Charles, he could tell. He watched as Logan downed his glass and poured himself another.

“Who are you talking to, Logan,” Charles asked gently. “Is it… is it Jean?”

Logan twitched. “No. Can’t hear her. I can’t— I can’t hear her.”

“Alright, that’s alright,” Charles placated. “Is it Scott?”

“No,” Logan said firmly. “Stop it. Stop that. Get out of my head.”

“I’m not Logan. I promise we’re just talking.”

“Not you. No. Stop it. Shut up, shut the fuck up, get out of my head,” Logan growled as he clutched his head.

“Logan—“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

A bang rang out as Logan’s fist slammed against the table. Charles heard a crack in the wood and his crystal glass shattered. He didn’t care. Charles could feel Storm gasp and clutch at her chest from behind the door, Hank tensed. 

‘Don’t,’ Charles told them.

Charles rolled in closer to hold Logan’s hand in his palms. “Logan, it’s late. Freshen up for dinner, yes? Everything will be okay.”

Charles watched as Logan crumbled silently. His hand tightened around Logan’s in reassurance. Logan put his head in his free hand as sobs wrecked through him. 

“I know the anger you feel Logan. I understand, do not walk that path. I have seen that trail and it only ends in more grief.”

Something inside of Charles told him those were the wrong words to say. But instead of screaming or violence, he was met with silence. Logan gently took his hand away before wiping his face. Silently, Charles took himself away and out the door to leave Logan to process.

The first part of dinner was pleasantly quiet. Rogue picked at her food as she sat next to an empty chair. She should have been asleep with the rest of the children, but she had insisted on seeing Logan. Storm tried her best to reassure her when the table thought he wouldn’t show. There were three empty seats at the table that looked like fresh scars in the dynamic. When Logan did show up, everyone went quiet. Rogue sat with a large smile on her face and pulled out the empty chair next to her. Logan sat down gently, his movements were slow and slurred.

“Hi, Logan!” Rogue greeted.

“Hey, kid.” 

The dinner resumed thereafter. Charles could see the deterioration of Logan’s mental state as the night went on. At some point, Logan had stopped talking altogether and stared at the two empty seats at the table. Charles watched as Rogue desperately tried to bring his attention back to her.

“Logan—“ 

It was all sudden. Logan stood up so sharply from his seat the chair fell backward with a loud crack. Logan was out the door faster than anyone could react, except Rogue.

“Logan! Logan! Where are you goin’!” Rogue chased after him.

Ororo quickly made her way to stop Rogue before she followed him out of the mansion. It was excruciating feeling the grief that poured from everyone, hearing Rogue’s cries as Logan walked away. 

Desperate, Charles tried to reach for him through the chaos. He knocked on the door to Logan’s mind only to be met with a lock. He allowed nothing in, yet from the deep trenches of his mind, Charles could see the influence that controlled him. A corrupted wolf. 

———

Logan woke up with a dry throat and a pounding skull. These were symptoms of a drunken stupor he was all too familiar with. What amazed him was the fact that he was home, and not passed out in an alleyway. He remembers going into the cage fight, drinking until he couldn’t think anymore, and the rest was blank. He patted himself down and dug into his pockets. Relieved, he pulled out a wad of cash. It was lighter than what he was expecting, but he guessed the missing cash was due to his intense hangover. 

Logan sat up slowly as a wave of pain rippled through him. His first mission was to recover. Logan gingerly got himself up from the futon on the floor and made his way to his door. He paused as soon as his hand touched the handle. Someone was in his home. 

The scent was rough but sweet, like a muffin left out too long for the flies. That smell of decay, lingered in the air as Logan quietly opened the door. He could hear rustling in the kitchen, someone was humming and opening different cabinets. Logan crept his way down the hallway and into the living area. 

A strange sense of relief flooded Logan when he saw Wade gingerly washing his dishes in his sink. Two wet cups sat on the counter next to him, they had been in the top cabinets beforehand. The relief Logan had felt quickly turned into disbelief once he remembered this wasn't normal.

“The fuck are you doing in my house?” Logan questioned. Wade, startled, let out a shrill screen before backing away and clutching at his chest in fear. 

“Peanut, you have GOT to warn a guy before you sneak up on them,” Wade waved a soapy kitchen knife in his hand. “I could have stabbed you!”

I’d love to see you try, Logan thought. “What are you doing in my house?”

“Well I saw you stumbling around last night, and I wanted to make sure that you got home safe,” Wade explained as he put the knife down in the sink. “Which by the way, we really should stop meeting that way I’d love to get to know you outside of… that. But you seemed a little more off your feet this time, so I stayed here to make sure you were still breathing.”

Logan grumbled at the explanation while avoiding Wade’s gaze. “... Where’s my liquor.”

“It’s eight am.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“You want a glass of water first big guy?” Wade moved to grab one of the cups he put on the counter. 

Logan grunted before sniffing his way to the new bottle he bought. It was in one of the cabinets in the kitchen when Logan found it. He immediately grabbed it before taking a swig to quell the thirst he had. It burnt going down, and it tasted vile, but he didn’t care. Logan looked back at Wade who stared at him with an eerily blank expression.

“The fuck are you looking at?”

“... Are you okay?” Wade asked. Startled, Logan sneered before slamming the bottle back down before moving in close to Wade’s space.

“Get out.”

“Whoa, hey man, I’m not trying to start shit alright,” Wade held an innocent hand up. “I’m not judging, scout’s honor. And you can trust that because I actually was a Boy Scout, may Scoutmaster Kevin burn in hell.” 

“Yeah?” Logan asked. It was strange how unaffected Wade seemed at Logan’s display of intimidation. Considering the place he worked at and the lingering scent of Wolf attached to him, Logan guessed Wade was used to this behavior. 

“Absolutely. Here, drink some water you thirsty little honey badger,” Wade filled up the cup in his hand from the tap and handed it to Logan. Logan took a step back before chugging his glass of water. “There we go. You want another?”

Logan grunted in response and drank the second cup much slower than the first. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Giving me pet names and shit,” It sent the hair on Logan’s neck up like static shock. 

“Oh, I do that with everyone. It's my thing, I’m the nickname guy. Once you have a nickname that sticks you’re part of the team,” Wade said happily.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah! I call my friend, Dopinder, Dopi sometimes, or Brown Panther. You know Wease the Weasel, I call my friend, Cable, Sugarbear. You’re new so I’m like testing things out, any notes?”

“We’re not friends.”

“Okay, but like if we were, would you prefer Peanut, Logie Bear, or Honey Badger?”

Logan sighed as he gripped the bridge of his nose from another wave of pain. “None.”

“We’ll workshop it. Listen, you’re welcome at any time over at my place if you ever just want to hang out, or like talk,” Wade let the air hang for an awkward second. “Or like, anything you want really… Mary misses you and the kid, but she told me not to tell you.”

Logan let out a huff. “The dog?”

“She’s nonchalant like that. But seriously, come knocking anytime, you know where I live.”

“Yeah… thanks— Thank you.” Logan stumbled.

“No problem, Logan,” Wade said before giving Logan a light pat on his shoulder and leaving. 

———

Wade was in an immense amount of pain. It took everything in his will not to immediately crumble underneath Logan’s proximity. His scent was intense, washing over his nostrils like an expensive cologne. And the thump of Logan’s heartbeat resonated deep within his chest. He forgot to eat the night before, so while he planned on placing the water out for Logan and then leaving, Logan’s abrupt wake-up startled him out of his plans.

Keeping his composure around Logan was hard enough, but when starving and obsessed over his scent? Wade couldn’t take it for much longer. Wade immediately burst into his home, which was left unlocked by Cable, and bee-lined it for the cabinet under the sink. He was running out of pouches and had to get more soon, but he grabbed one from the chilled container and ripped the top part before guzzling the liquid. 

It was cold and vile, and the blood tasted like the poor diet of a college-aged person trying their best to make ends meet. It wasn’t as satisfying as it might have to drain them himself, but the pouches kept him full enough to not send him into a frenzy. His desperate rustling had woken Mary, who unhappily grumbled from her bed. With a sigh, he finished the pouch before disposing of the biohazards, cleaned himself up, and scooped Mary Puppins to sleep his pain away on the couch. 

While quietly rotting in bed, Wade could not find the energy within himself to get up and check the knocking at the door. It was well into the afternoon, the sun was still up and starting to dip behind the skyline. Wade groaned into his pillow as he heard Althea grumble to get the door. Pain still ached in his bones, he had left his body starving for too long. While he didn’t regret his act of goodwill, the difficulty in simply raising his head to look at the door was troublesome. 

Wade, figuring it was Cable coming to check on him, honed in on the heartbeat. He only had a moment to process and panic before the door opened. Logan stood with a blue and yellow flannel and a pair of brown pants that dwarfed the Hello Kitty pajama set Wade wore. 

“Good afternoon, Althea,” Logan greeted kindly at the door. 

“Oh, Logan,” Althea said happily as she placed a hand on Logan’s arm. “Are you here for tea?”

“Oh no, I’m just here to take a look at that faucet a little early,” Logan said. “Hello Wade.”

Frozen still on the pullout couch, Wade weekly raised a hand to wave from underneath his blankets. 

“Am I coming at a bad time?”

“NO!” Althea and Wade exclaim as Althea leads Logan inside the apartment. 

Logan stepped into the room and examined the area, it was dark. The windows were drawn closed tightly to avoid light spilling into the living room. It wasn’t like Wade or Althea to need the light in order to function, but the glaring oddity of a person who can function normally in sunlight mortified Wade. Quickly and painfully, he moved around to turn on the lamps in the living room.

“Sorry about that, heh,” Wade chuckled nervously. “I have an odd sleep schedule and Al is blind so we never really open the blinds.”

“No worries,” Logan reassured. “Where’s the leak?”

In my pants, Wade thought. “In the bathroom, here I’ll lead you.” 

Logan let out a gruff sound in acknowledgment as he let Wade lead him to the bathroom. Wade was distracted, Logan followed closely behind him and there wasn’t much room in the apartment for him to get lost. When Wade opened the door to the bathroom to turn on the light, fear gripped him as quickly as the electricity started to feed through the wires. The mirror! Wade quickly took a step back to stay away from the range of reflection before turning to Logan with a bashful smile. Logan gave him a strange look before turning towards the sink. 

“Here it is… the bathroom… as requested,” Wade said nervously.

“You alright, bub?” Logan asked. 

“Gasp! My first nickname, so we are friends!”

Logan sighed. “Forget I asked.” Wade moved further away from the bathroom mirror’s range as Logan moved into the bathroom.

“Alright-y, I’ll be helping Al out in the kitchen… bub.” Wade played up a giggle before running away. 

Preparing to make tea, Al moved around in the kitchen with Mary sitting patiently on the tile. Wade walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to find anything to offer Logan. Placing the kettle on the stove and turning it on, Al motioned over to a panicking Wade. 

“You’re fucked,” Al whispered.

“I’m so fucked,” Wade agreed. 

Wade frantically looked around to make sure there wasn’t any incriminating evidence around his home. Blood stains, droplets, or empty blood pouches were nowhere to be found. It looked normal, or as normal as Wade’s home could look. Wade sniffed the air.

“Motherfucker are you sniffing me?” Al exclaimed.

“Shhh! No! I’m just making sure,” Wade hissed. 

“Of what?”

“That there’s no smell… pertaining to my diet,” Wade sniffed again. There was a scent of blood that lingered in the kitchen. Wade didn’t know how powerful Logan’s scent was, but he didn’t want to take any chances. 

“Well, there’s that beef you cooked the other night,” Cooked was a strong word considering Wade’s expertise, but it provided a sound excuse. 

“That could work,” Wade considered. Or if he can tell the difference between human blood and animal blood I can pretend to be deathly ill, Wade thought. Arthur Morgan style, he already believes I have cancer.

“What are you thinking?” Al asked suspiciously. 

“That I’m going to hell,” Wade said as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

“Ain’t that right.”

———

Logan worked silently in the bathroom, he could feel the awkwardness that hung between them. He could hear Wade and Althea whispering in the kitchen, but couldn’t pick up any of the words. The one thing that never truly healed after decades of war was his hearing. He felt his harsh attitude aided by his hangover and antisocial behavior ruined whatever opinion Wade had of him. He had hoped fixing the faucet would ease whatever damage he had done, but the way Wade avoided him like the plague said differently. There was a nervous scent in the air that made Logan tense.

Logan was ready to cut his losses by the time he finished with the faucet. However, once he stood up to step out of the bathroom, he was interrupted by a violently wet cough that came from the kitchen. Logan walked out and turned off the light in the bathroom as he walked out. Logan looked over to Wade coughing harshly over the kitchen sink with Althea and Mary huddled around him. 

“You sure you’re alright?” Logan said as he got into the kitchen.

Wade quickly wiped his mouth over the sink. “Yup I’m- fuck- I’m alright!”

Logan subtly sniffed the air, that was a lie, he thought. Wade looked like he was containing another coughing fit. He was shaking where he stood and his eyebrows furrowed in pain. Logan took in his scent again, past the sickness that overwhelmed him, past the rotting sweetness. He could smell the metallic stain of blood on him. Logan’s eyes furrowed as he moved closer to check on him.

“Are you sick?” Logan asked urgently. He hadn’t realized how close he had gotten until Wade’s hand pressed against his chest. “You said you weren’t anymore.”

“Logan, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, I’m just having a bad day,” Wade pleaded. Truth, Logan thought. “Let’s sit down and have a tea! How about that!”

Logan sighed as he took a step back. Wade quickly set the coffee table with baked goods and mugs. Althea was still shocked, Logan could smell it on her. Gently, Logan rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. She jolted but held the hand on her shoulder before moving into the living room with Mary. They thanked Logan for his handy work and insisted he’d stay with them for dinner. Logan declined, and as he walked ten feet back to his apartment, he offered Wade a quick pat on the shoulder before disappearing. 

Chapter Text

“You’re going to hell,” Vanessa said with her hand over her mouth. Cable looked at Wade sitting on his couch with a shocked yet exhausted expression. 

“Fuck that, he’s going to murder him.” 

“Guys! C’mon!” Wade pleaded. He didn’t know what exactly he was pleading for. He had made his coffin, and now he must lie in it.

They were sitting in Cable’s room on a Monday evening. Wade, who had told the both of them about his falsehoods, shifted nervously where he sat on the couch. Vanessa was experiencing every stage of grief in a short period, while Cable looked like he was already preparing Wade’s eulogy.

“There is not a single thing I can do for you at this point Wade,” Cable said plainly.

“I had to explain the blood somehow! I’m a messy eater! Vanessa you know!” Wade turned to Vanessa.

“You had a perfectly good excuse that Al gave you!” Vanessa stressed.

“Again! What if he could tell the difference!”

“He wasn’t going to know the difference unless attention was brought to it,” Cable says. “Blood is blood. Those differences can only be picked up and processed when they’re focused on those details.”

“Like wine tasting?” Vanessa asked.

“Wha- yeah?” 

“Oooh we should go wine tasting!” Wade said.

“They only hold those during the day I think.”

“Oh, bummer.”

“You two, focus.” Cable snapped.

“Sorry,” Wade and Vanessa said at once.

“At this point, I’m aiming for a pity fuck, and maybe this is what gets me there,” Wade said solemnly.

“The drunk Wolf is gonna pity fuck you?” Cable said in a tone Wade did not appreciate.

“You fucked me while I was a coke addict!”

“We have no horse in this race, Cable. " Vanessa pat Cable on the shoulder while he grumbled.

“But I have a plan, would you like to hear my plan,” Wade waited to offer the illusion of choice before speaking again. “I annoy him so much he starts to like me. Like I’m his little pet tapeworm. Just sucking the life out of him, with kindness. While also acting deathly ill in the process.”

“No,” Vanessa said simply.

“… I’ll workshop it. But I'm slowly getting there! He called me Bub yesterday! Oooh!”

“He calls Frank ‘bub’ you’re not special,” Cable said.

“You’re so mean to me.”

“If there is a risk of you getting hurt I don’t want you pursuing this, Wade,” Vanessa warned.

Wade sighed, he knew Vanessa worried about him deeply. Of course, he made no actual effort to protect himself, he still didn’t want Vanessa to live in that fear again.

“Everything will be okay Ness,” he lied. Wade placed a hand over hers. “You don’t have to worry about me, Nate is just a worry wart.”

Wade knew Vanessa didn’t believe him, but he left no room for her to doubt his words. His persistence paired with his silver tongue was often what got him into most of his lethal trouble. And while he was no longer in a position where he felt like he needed to worry about mortality, he was weak, potentially putting himself in the position between a wolf’s maw. 

For weeks, Wade haunted Logan’s social spaces, purely out of coincidence. Recognizing the unique position he has, Wade tried his best to use this to his advantage. Their interactions were typically brief, with Logan more often than not being drunk or too tired to fully tolerate him. Still, while plotting ways to inject himself into Logan’s life, Wade found himself alone with Frank.

He was bruised, more than usual. He moved gingerly as he carefully helped Althea into her chair. It was Sunday evening once again, and Wade sat in his usual seat in the back of the meeting hall. Cable wasn’t with them today, there was no doubt he told Frank to watch Wade and Althea in his absence. He had messaged Wade a lengthy text detailing his setbacks, that Wade skimmed, about territorial concerns. 

Wade turned to Frank with a large smile that went ignored. “Hey.”

“What do you want, Wade?” Frank said gruffly.

“I was just saying hi,” Wade whined. “Can’t a friend check up on another friend?”

Frank gave Wade a fleeting glance that dripped with exhaustion. 

“C’mon. What’s going on,” Wade asked. “You’re looking a little bruised. Are you and Red having a couples quarrel?”

“First of all, shut the fuck up, second of all, no it wasn’t him,” Frank sighed. “Went into the Cage, needed to talk to someone, got a little cash on the way.”

Frank spoke in a hushed tone. There was a low chance anyone around them, but Althea, would understand what they meant. Yet Wade could still feel the apprehension Frank felt in this space. He was still relatively new, older than Wade as someone who became supernatural, yet almost as inexperienced as him.

“Would this person be a mutual friend of ours?” Wade suggested. 

“...Sure.”

“You lost huh?”

“Fuck no,” Frank said definitively. “It was a draw.”

Wade had never stepped into the cages before, yet he could guess what the furrow of Frank Castle’s brow meant. Too stubborn to lose, one of them would have died, Wade bit his lip to contain the giggle that threatened to spill. Logan wouldn’t lose.

“I’m sure you gave it your all,” Wade said, Frank only flipped him off as a response. “Do you know when he usually fights?”

“No,” Frank said. He was a good liar, Wade couldn’t rely on his heartbeat to catch them. But there were other subtleties. His body temperature raised the smallest amount. His voice never waivered, yet moisture started to collect in his palms. 

“No? You wouldn’t mind if I joined you for your next fight would you?”

Frank’s eye twitched. Wade only gave him a sweet smile that feigned innocence. Wade knew many of the Wolves that knew him or Cable couldn’t stand him. Thankfully, he was in the position where he was seen as untouchable among them, allowing Wade to be as irritating as possible. Walking into a Cage match surrounded by angry, drunk Werewolves was not a smart thing to do as a vamp, but it was permissible under Cable’s pack.

“I’m gonna find you there anyway huh?” Frank questioned.

“And Nathan will kill you if I’m unsupervised.”

“No, he won’t. You’re a grown man.”

“Not a around Wolves I’m not,” Wade leans into Frank’s space. “He gets really possessive.”

“Christ,” Frank sighed. “Fine. Next Saturday. Nine PM, if you’re not ready to leave then I’m leaving your ass where you are.”

“Yay! Who says the big bad punisher doesn’t have a heart,” Wade cooed. “Except for the thirty-seven bodies you racked up.”

“That you know of.”

Frank’s introduction into the supernatural world was as bloodthirsty as Wade’s. Reigning as the Punishing Wolf that stalked the streets at night before retiring under Cable’s territory with his father. His tenure sparked fear among the city, an atmosphere Wade remembers having almost become one of the thirty-seven victims of Frank Castle. Oddly enough, they were never able to catch the Wolf as he burned into the memory of every criminal’s mind. 

“You won’t regret it,” Wade said.

Frank sighed. “I know I will.”

———

This was Logan’s third night fighting, he could feel his logical self slipping further into the cracks of his subconscious mind. His Wolf started to take over seamlessly, proving it hard for Logan to quit the unhealthy habits he’d promised to avoid. He wasn’t in the cage yet, standing among the crowd as they jeered and howled for whoever was currently fighting. 

Last week, Frank came to him. They fought and drew a tie after a lengthy and bloody fight that left them less than human. Frank talked to him after the fight, expressing his concerns about his health and his interest in joining a pack for his daughter’s safety. Too wired to consider his offer, Logan declined and walked away from him.

This evening, Frank stood by him once again. He was dressed to fight, in light clothes with nothing necessarily valuable. 

“Going for round two?” Logan asked gruffly. He enjoyed how ruffled that made Frank.

“Anytime you want, old man, but that’s not what I’m here for,” Frank said.

“No?” Logan asked.

“No, have you taken my offer into consideration?” 

“I’m no good for your pack, and my daughter’s safe,” Logan insisted. “I’m not here to be buddy buddy with anyone, I’m just here to get paid.”

“It’s not about what you could be good for, it’s about protection,” Frank said. “We got some big players here, just want to make sure you’re kid has a backup to rely on.”

“My child is fine. And I don’t appreciate you insinuating the opposite,” Logan growled out. 

Frank huffed but steeled himself. “I had what you had once, trust me I understand… just think about it. Or don’t, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Good,” Logan said firmly.

Frank sighed. “I have a flea on my tail, said he wanted to see you.”

“What for?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Frank said simply. 

“Who is he?” 

“You’ll know when you see him, impossible to miss, unfortunately.”

Logan sighed, only a month in and he was already stirring trouble. He doubted it was anyone from his past, and he doesn’t recall owing anyone money. He was at a loss when all he wanted was to get his cash and leave. Which is exactly what he does. 

When the fight in the cage ended with the 5 streak winner still standing, Logan took his place in the cage. The Wolf was cocky and smiled at Logan with a mouth of missing and chipped teeth. Logan didn’t smile, ignored the pleasantries, and took his jacket for the fight. 

The room erupted, they knew him now, and the poor Wolf in front of him didn’t know who he was up against. He was young and drunk on adrenaline. Logan stepped into his corner, he didn’t know the kid’s name and he didn’t want to. He took a swig from the flask in his back pocket and let his mind fall back into itself. He could feel the phantom hand on his shoulder, Victor standing right behind him in place of his Feral Wolf. 

“You in the wrong place old man?” The young Wolf sneered. 

Logan slowly paced in his corner, like a prowling animal. He didn’t answer. 

“I’ll gut you! Just like I did to the poor saps before!” The Wolf yelled in Logan’s face, stopping him in his tracks.

Logan stared at the boy’s eyes for the first time, deep and blank. He wasn’t there anymore, not mentally. Tear his throat out, Victor goaded. Listen to that frail little heartbeat, you could make a meal out of him. A deep growl escaped from Logan, it was involuntary and he could see the effect it had on the kid. A flash of fear, before it quickly steeled over. The bids had been collected, the bell rang, and the fight started. 

———

Beautiful, was the only word Wade could describe the scene in front of him. The room smelled like blood and sweat, it choked him out of the breath he didn’t need to take. The way Logan prowled within the cage like he owned it sent a shiver down his spine. Wade saw the fear he invoked with just a single look. The betters around him started to get nervous, Wade took pleasure in seeing the hope fall from their faces the second Logan started moving.

It was messy and guttural. The hits came down heavy, blood splattered against skin, and though Wade had sworn off drinking from someone unwilling, he wanted nothing more than to lick the blood that ran down his chest off with his tongue. The bell rang again, and Logan immediately separated back to his corner. Wade rudely pushed his way through to get to the gate near Logan’s corner without remorse. 

He looked distant, far off while taking a swig from his flask. The young Wolf was trying to get up again, bruised and bloodied and spitting out more teeth. Wade leaned as close as he could against the fence that separated the crowd five feet from the cage. 

“Hey, Honey Badger!” Wade called out. 

Recognition glazed over his face like the trance he was in was broken. Fear, embarrassment, and then anger flashed through his face all at once before landing in confusion.

“Wade?” Logan asked.

“Knock 'em dead!” Wade yelled. And something Wade had never thought he could get out of Logan happened. He smiled. A wide, hysterical smile that seeped in bloodlust. 

The bell rang again. The kid was down in one hit. The arena erupted in a wave of boos and howls. Logan stood in his corner, prowling, waiting for the next opponent. No one came.

“Woooo! You did it!” Wade screeched into the night as Logan stumbled out of the door. 

Logan had seemed to sober up, with adrenaline dropping and alcohol waning. He held his head in his hand and attempted to take a drink from his flask only to find it empty. He sighed, then he looked up at Wade and frowned intensely.

“The fuck are you doing here,” Logan asked. 

“Well, believe it or not, I came to support a friend, and then you showed up!” Wade cheered.

“Really,” Logan sniffed. “Frank?”

“My, what big nose you have grandma,” Wade giggled, way too much energy for someone at two in the morning. “Yes, I came here with Frankie. Whats he smells like by the way, I’ve always wondered what Wolves smell.”

“You should go back to him.”

“Nah he’s fine, I want to congratulate you! For your big win!”

“Nothing to congratulate.”

“But you won,” Wade said petulantly. 

“Nothing to be proud of, kid,” Logan glowered before turning to walk away. “It fucking barbaric.”

“Oh, who gives a shit! You won, you deserve like victory tacos or whatever,” Wade said. “And I’m not a kid I’m pushing forty here mister.”

Logan looked at him like he’d grown a third head. “I need a drink.”

“C’mon,” Wade whined. “I got drinks at my place!”

Logan sighed before looking back at Wade. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, one hundred percent,” Wade said. “But first let’s get some food in ya’, a full meal always makes me sleepy.”

Logan and Wade walk to a Mexican restaurant near their apartment building. It was small, the menu board looked like it hadn’t been changed since the 80s, and served their drinks in styrofoam cups. Logan refused to drink from his cup, saying the styrofoam made his teeth hurt, but enjoyed the food all the same.

Wade took small bites from his food, he didn’t have much of an appetite but enjoyed the taste anyway. Instead, he focused on Logan who tore through his food like a starving man. He was still in an excited state, his hair was thick and wild with his gray streaks curling into a wild wisp. A shiver ran down Wade’s spine when he saw the enlarged canines peaking from Logan’s lips. From between bites, Logan looked up from his food and gave Wade a questioning stare. Caught, Wade ducked his head back to his food. 

“You know in California,” Wade started in between bites of his burrito. “They put fries in their burritos.”

“… that doesn’t sound very authentic,” Logan quipped after swallowing a large part of his burrito.

“It’s not, but it’s heaven on earth,” Wade sighed wistfully. “How and who I would kill to get another taste of that sex wrapped in a tortilla.”

“Why don’t you? You can make a trip with Al, I’m sure she’d enjoy it.”

Wade sighed again. “I would but, on account that I am too poor… and too sick, I don’t think that’s possible.”

That put a pause to the lighthearted meal. Due credit to Logan’s performance while incredibly drunk, he nodded and gave Wade a pat on his shoulder before returning to his food. 

“Besides, Al is blind, it isn’t like she can enjoy the scenery,” Wade said into his burrito. 

Logan let out a genuine chuckle with his mouth full, it was deep and surprisingly elated. “That’s fucked.”

“You know they call her Blind Al,” Wade goaded. 

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“I’m dead serious, she goes to bingo and everyone calls her Blind Al.”

“How does she play,” Logan asks. 

“Oh, she has this boytoy named Earl. Picks out a card and does it for her,” Wade says. “I know for a fact they got braille bingo cards too she just wants to double her winning chances without having to do any of the work.”

“Smart woman.”

“I learn from the best,” Wade smiles. “You wanna finish mine?”

“You sure? Don’t want to save it for later, or for your mom?”

“Yeah, I can’t eat much anyway, plus Al hates this place,” With a nod, Logan scarfed down the rest of his burrito before grabbing Wade’s half. “This is why I love hanging out with other Wolves, you’re like garbage disposals.”

Logan looked up at Wade with his mouth full of food as if offended. 

“Don’t take it as an offense, big boys gotta eat too.”

They both walked back to Wade’s apartment when their meal ended. Wade found himself feeling the familiar giddiness of a teenager as he snuck Logan into his apartment so as not to wake Althea. Wade guided Logan to the couch before gently skipping his way to the kitchen. He grabbed two drinks and sat down next to Logan as he handed him the bottle. 

“Here’s an opener if you—,” Before Wade could finish his sentence, Logan was already opening the glass bottle with his teeth.

“I’m good,” Logan said. He took a swig then paused, he pulled the bottle from his face and in the darkness read the text on the bottle. “...Root beer?”

“I said I had drinks, you never asked me to specify.”

“I don’t know if I should laugh or be pissed,” Logan said dryly and then took another swig from his drink.

Satisfied, Wade leaned over to grab the remote from the coffee table and turned to Logan. “Wanna watch anything in particular?”

“Nah,” Logan said. “Put anything on I might pass out anyway.”

Wade shrugged and leaned back on the sofa, putting on a random cartoon he had saved on the TV with the volume at its lowest. The two of them sat in silence for a while as they drank their root beers. 

Logan turned to Wade suddenly. “What’s this?”

“It’s Voltron, from the eighties, you don’t know it?” Wade asked. “Isn’t this like… your era?”

“Way after my time actually,” Logan said.

“God you’re ancient. Bet you have a pager still huh?”

“No I got rid of mine a long time ago,” Logan said solemnly.

“It terrifies me that you’re being serious right now.”

“The point is, is this something a ten-year-old would like,” Logan asked. 

Wade paused the quip he was about to blunder through and looked at Logan. “You wanna talk about cartoons right now? We talking toons? Cause I can talk toons.”

“I would love to get a straight answer from you someday.”

“Never straight, Peanut. Alright here’s the gist,” Wade put his root beer down on the coffee table. “My top three, are Adventure Time, CatDog, and Voltron.”

“CatDog?” Logan whispered in confusion.

“We don’t have time to get into that one, we’re hitting the word count. Now what I suggest for Laura would be the classics but she might not be used to the aesthetics,” Wade steamrolled. “Now there are remakes, like She-Ra and Voltron: Legendary Defender. But one cartoon that gave every kid an unhealthy obsession with crystals is Steven Universe, she’ll like that one and Adventure Time I think.”

“What’s that Universe one about,” Logan asked curiously.

“Lesbian space rock aliens who raise a half Rock Alien-Human child named Steven.”

“...is them being lesbian important to the plot?” Logan asked.

“Very. And they dance to make other crystals and fight evil space rock aliens,” Wade said simply. 

“Ugh… my brain hurts. Fuck it, sure I’ll suggest it to Laura.”

“Oh if you think that’s bad, Adventure Time is way more confusing.”

“You know I think I’m good.”

“Alright, come to me if you want to ‘talk toons’ again,” Wade said as he leaned back into his chair. 

During the commotion, a sleepy Mary Puppins waddled into the living room. Cooing, Wade picked her up and sat her in between them. Mary sniffed around, nosing at Logan’s thigh before climbing onto his lap. Logan grumbled as he took his hand and petted Mary heavily as if she were a big dog and not five apples tall. They continue to watch Voltron, and Wade doesn’t know when, but he's elated to see Logan fast asleep on his couch. 

Chapter Text

Badum. Bum. Badum.

Wade could hear it.

Bum. Badum. Bum.

Intoxicated by it.

Badum. Bum. Badum.

The harsh beat of Logan’s heart. It filled his ears with its song and sent a shiver down his spine. Wade was fully aware that he looked like a creep. Watching Logan sleep in the middle of the night, he was still practically a stranger. But he couldn’t help it, Logan’s head was tucked into his chest with his arms crossed. Most of his scent was blocked off, but Wade was so close he could feel his heartbeat rattle in his teeth.

Wade leaned in closer as slowly as he could. He could feel the heat seeping from Logan's skin; Logan was unnaturally warm. Against Wade’s cold, hard skin, he craved the warmth that came from Logan. Wade didn’t breathe; he just stared and listened to the morbid symphony.

Badum. Bum. Badum. Badum.

A spike. Wade frowned as he watched Logan’s facial expressions shift. The softness of his brow began to harden. A nightmare, Wade thought to himself as he watched Logan tense in his sleep. He started to mumble, unintelligible at first, even with Wade’s enhanced hearing.

Then, without warning, a deep growl erupted from him. His face scrunched up entirely into a frown and his shoulders hunched up like an angry cat. Concerned, Wade reached out to Logan as he hovered over his sleeping form. A bad decision he soon realized when the second he placed his hand on Logan’s shoulder, he was pressed against the couch with a hand of gleaming silver claws hovered above him.

“Holy shitballs! I’m sorry,” Wade held his hands out in a placating gesture. He mocked the physicality of panicked breaths, yet it wasn’t panic that filled him. Inexplicably, what should have been fear that shook Wade to his core, was lust that burned down his spine.

“What the fuck were you- what?” Logan looked around like he had forgotten where he was, before relaxing his grip on Wade’s shirt.

“You’re in my apartment… you were having a nightmare,” Wade said gently. “Sorry, I woke you, should have known you’d be an angry sleeper.”

Coming to his senses, Logan quickly pulled off of Wade and stood up. “I’m so sorry about that. That was completely inappropriate of me.”

Wade watched Logan as he tried to make himself small in front of him. He hid his hands behind his back as if ashamed of his own body, afraid he might hurt Wade.

“Don’t do that,” Wade said.

“What?”

“Don’t apologize. Don’t hide,” Wade stood up to be in Logan’s space. “You don’t need to do that. I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” Logan said solemnly.

A wide grin stretched across Wade’s face. “Really?” He whispered.

———

Logan looked Wade deep into his eye. The lights were off in the room and the TV had long been turned off. The humiliation that filled him paused as the world stopped around him. Really? Wade had questioned. Really? Like it was an invitation or a game.

Really? The bitter-sweet smell to him bloomed like a rotten corpse in the sun. Roadkill in the summer that every carrion animal craved. Lust. Wade wasn’t afraid of him. He was intrigued by him, wanted him. He was aroused by him. Logan took a step back.

“… I should leave,” Logan said.

Wade pouted as he took a step forward to follow. “Aww, why? It was an honest mistake, Logie, I trust you.”

Logan choked down the purr that threatened to build up within him. “I really need to go. Thank you for the drink.”

Without another word, Logan grabbed his jacket and his boots and quickly left the apartment. From the safety of his barren nest, Logan leaned against the door and sighed. He was humiliated and terrified of what he could have done to a defenseless human. Yet the ache in his gut brewed a deep desperation within him.

“Fuckin freak,” he whispered, but he wasn’t sure if he meant Wade or himself.

Work was purposely kept boring and civil between Logan and Frank. Usually, it was hours of silence, only interrupted to ask for assistance or to go on break. Neither Wolf acknowledges their true nature, displays themselves, or feels threatened by their presence. They clock in, work, and then leave.

Today was particularly uneventful. Logan and Frank didn’t talk about their Saturday night encounter and acted like it never happened. While Frank tried to convince a man, who came in with an electric car, that he did not need an oil change, Logan stood outside with a fresh cigar in his mouth. There were days when Logan felt that he was going crazy, and the familiar buzz of nicotine calmed his senses the way alcohol never could.

Logan's senses heightened as someone approached. A teenager, with her nose buried in her phone, walked up to him in silence. Confused, Logan looked back into the shop, the conversation was getting heated now. The girl’s hair was a nest of curls, she chewed on bubble gum like her life depended on it as she texted her heart out. She was a young Wolf, possibly only recently shifted in the last five years. Logan started to wonder why this neighborhood had an unusually high number of Wolves in one area.

“You lost kid?” Logan asked.

Seemingly shocked, the girl looked up from her phone and gazed at Logan. “You’re not Frank.”

“I’m not, he’s inside,” Logan motioned back with his cigar.

The girl looked into the shop and blew a bubble. “Twenty bucks he snaps and beats the guy into a pulp.”

“As much as that would amuse me, that’s not gonna happen.”

She held her hand out and raised a brow. “Bet on it?”

“I’m not gambling with a child,” Logan said.

“Ugh, old people are never fun,” the girl sighed and walked into the shop.

The argument quickly died after her entrance, with the man quickly stomping away to his EV. At the open door, Logan put his attention back to his cigar.

“What are you doing here?” Frank asked the girl.

“I’m hanging out with some friends tomorrow at Coney and I need some cash,” she replied.

“What am I? Your ATM, and don’t you have school?”

“What? I can’t go to Coney Island because I have school? C’mon Frank I know you’re decrepit but surely you remember what it’s like to be youthful and have fun,” she snarked back.

There was a long pause of silence before the key sound of a wallet rustling broke the air. “Here. Now go away. And keep your nose clean, understand?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t do anything you would do,” the teenager sighed. “Cheat, steal, murder, general debauchery.”

“Don’t you have a paper or something?” Frank huffed. With a cackle, the teen looked back at the entrance and caught a glance at Logan.

“Who’s the new guy?”

“No,” Frank said firmly and led her to the back office.

Snubbing his cigar out on his palm, with a gentle flutter of his eyes at the pain, Logan moved from his spot by the wall and walked back into the garage. Frank looked overstimulated, shoving his wallet back into his pocket and sighing.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Logan said.

“That’s because I don’t.”

“Oh… apologies then,” Logan looked down at the lineup of tools he had left before his break. “Who is she?”

“I took her in. She was in trouble, needed help and I helped her,” Frank sighed. “And then she never left.”

“… doesn’t seem like you want her to.”

Frank nodded. “I don’t. But Amy is not mine. I protect her, and if I can’t do that Cable does.”

Logan nodded. He knew where the conversation was alluding, he’d protect Laura too. Sober and of sound mind to critically think, he knew it would be a good opportunity for her to explore the relationship of a pack dynamic that wasn’t just him. Yet the bitter part of him that grew afraid of dependency wanted to shield Laura from it. He didn’t have time to dissect the irony in that with him and Victor.

“... What’s he like, as an Alpha,” Logan asked. He was careful not to add any implication of interest in his voice.

Frank looked up from his toolbox to look at him. They leveled each other with blank stares before Frank responded.

“He’s tough… but he’s reliable. I trust him with my life,” he said like it was the most significant thing he could have said. Logan, knowing Frank, knew it probably was. “He’s a bit loose with the entrance, hell even Wilson’s in it.”

“He let a human in his Pack?” Logan questioned. Frank looked at Logan strangely for a moment, like he was shocked at his choice of words.

“... Like I said… he’s a bit loose,” Frank said cautiously. He moved away to pop the hood of a car he was about to work on before the altercation.

He probably thinks I’m one of those asshole segregationist Wolves, Logan thought. “I don’t have a problem with it, I was in one previously,” He clarified. “It’s just rare from what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah well, he plays favorites with Wilson, no one’s allowed to touch him,” Frank grumbled as he grabbed some of the tools he needed.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t seen? They’re practically attached at the hip,” Frank huffed. “Wherever Wade is, Cable is, or at the very least he knows. Everyone knows you’re not allowed to touch him, Wolf or not.”

“Hmm,” Logan grunted. Logan thought back to that night in Wade’s apartment. The want he felt for Wade and the lust he smelled on him. Marked territory, Logan was no stranger to homewrecking but this was different.

In the beginning, before his relationship with Jean and Scott, he knew getting close to Jean would piss Scott off. It was a joke to him, not real, until his attachment grew, and found himself not only wanting Jean but Scott too. It was only after biting Scott did their relationship finally solidify. But Jean was always Scott’s first. Logan knew that, and as much as they loved him, they made that clear too. Victor had always mocked Logan for this. At every war they fought in, it didn’t matter if he was knee-deep in a trench or knee-deep in a swamp, Logan’s heart was “too soft.”

You’re gonna break your heart, Jimmy, Victory teased after finding Logan alone with one of their squad, Johnny. And he was right, after weeks of planning to run away to San Fransisco after the war, the man had died from infection. Victor was there to pick up the pieces, to remind Logan the only person he could rely on was him.

Johnny, Jean, Scott, and now Wade, a new addition to a long list of heartbreak and disappointment. He was only glad he knew he couldn’t attempt to court him before he even tried. He was Cable’s, the Pack Alpha’s. And Logan knew well enough not to mess with anything the Pack lead considered his, Victor reminded him so.

“Good to know,” Logan said simply, before they fell back into their usual silence during work.

———

Laura hated bullies. She had encountered them before when she was in public school, but it was always easy to scare away the human children from messing with her. Here, in a school full of kids from the supernatural, it was much harder to make a name for yourself. Like now, during break, she walks across the field to find Russel cornered with three older Wolves. Laura knows that Russel isn’t physically incapable of protecting himself, but she also knows he’s not of the mind to fully commit to his promise of villainy.

This doesn’t bother Laura, she likes playing pretend with Russel. Logan always taught her to watch the things she loves, just in case they get lost or damaged. At that time she thought he only meant her physical items, but the longer she stayed with him the more she understood he was watching her too. So she watches for Russel, and Russel is in danger.

Laura stomps her way over to the older kids. She recognized the three, the ones that challenged her during her first moon there. She didn’t bother to learn their names, but she did smirk when one of them flinched in her presence. A small silver-induced scar indented on his cheek.

Russel, sensing the change in emotion, looked over at Laura and smirked at the boys. “Ah yeah, now you’re fucked! Look who’s coming, dickhead!”

Laura stood by Russel and looked at the kids in front of him. One of them was holding his backpack tipped over and emptied on the group. Another was holding one of Russel’s sketchbooks, the one he used to draw comic characters he made. It was open to a page of sketches of him and Laura, fighting together in colorful costumes.

“What? You’re so much of a dweeb you had to get your girlfriend to come save you,” one of them sneered.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Russel yelled.

“She’s like in fourth grade dude, he’s such a creep,” They all laughed, except for the one she scratched who chuckled nervously.

Laura growled quietly, before lifting her hand to them politely. “Give it back.”

The leader scoffed. “No way dude, we’re just looking at his art,” He grabbed the notebook and dangled it above her head. “I mean it's just so good! I’m pretty sure there’s one of you two kissi—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Laura isn’t sure what happened. She blinked and woke up in Hank McCoy’s office. Her hands ached where her claws were, and the hair that hadn’t yet receded was prominent in her arms and neck. She quickly looked at herself, it was always something Logan always told her to do after shifting. Always check for blood, he told her.

“You didn’t hurt them, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Hank’s voice rang out in the office. Laura sat up from the nurse's office bed and looked at him. “That was what you were doing? Checking for blood.”

Laura blinked at him, she knew Hank knew his father but she didn’t realize how close they were. “I asked politely.”

“I heard, and so has Professor Xavier, and Ms. Monroe,” Hank reassured. “Russel and the three boys told us what happened, now I’m waiting for your side of the story.”

“I don’t remember,” Laura admitted.

Hank hummed before getting up from his desk and sitting in a chair a few feet away from the bed. “How much do you remember?”

“They were being mean, making fun of his drawings, keeping his stuff,” Laura remembered the way they teased Russel and her and growled. “They made fun of him for being friends with me, because I’m a girl.”

“What else?”

“I don’t remember,” Laura huffed. “I can’t… I don’t know. I woke up.”

“You woke up here?” Laura nodded. “I see. Would you like cold water? Logan said it would help.”

Laura nodded. When Hank turned his back to grab a bottle from the mini fridge, she tried her best to remember what happened. She strained and frowned, frustrated when nothing came up. When Hank presented the bottle to her, she gently clutched it in her hands as she looked at the floor.

“...Does this happen often? The blackouts?” Hank asked her gently.

“Am I in trouble?”

Hank sighed. “Well… frankly yes. We don't tolerate neither bullying or assault on this campus. But I’m afraid there might be a bigger issue here.”

Laura looked up at Hank and sniffed, he wasn’t lying but he was definitely worried. Hank gave her a knowing look after being scented.

“Before I could change… I would get really angry, the doctors wanted me to. But after Papa, it stopped. The only time I don’t remember is the first time,” Laura said. “I think I was scared, I hurt him but he said it was okay.”

Laura remembered waking up in Logan’s arms in the bathtub her first full moon. His shirt was torn and bloodied, the tile was cracked and there was blood smeared on the floor, but he was peacefully asleep in the bathtub.

“Can you control when you shift?” Hank asked.

“Mostly… but not on full moons yet… and not today.”

“And I’m sure Logan taught you everything,” Laura nodded once again. “I see, you two are very alike and I mean it in a good way. But how he was raised was very archaic versus how we view things today. Suppression leads to moments like this, but I understand you may not have had the privilege to explore this freely.”

Hank opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a booklet, he presented it to Laura gently. She placed the bottle into her lap and took the booklet. It seemed to be made for children, with the illustrations and colors looking soothing. There was a drawing of a little boy and a little girl with two wolves right next to them. The title read, My Little Wolf and Me, in both English and Spanish which Laura appreciated.

“We usually give this to kids a little younger, but you may find it useful as well,” Hank said. “But for now, let me ask you this: Who do you hear in the moon?”

“What?” Laura asked him.

“Many Wolves, especially young ones, describe the full moon to have a voice telling them that they should shift, or convincing them that they want to play. This is very normal, even your father hears this. Do you hear anyone?”

Laura thinks back to her last moon, the singing she heard whenever it was at its highest. “... I hear… singing.”

“Do you know who?”

Laura nods. “The nice nurse, she would sing to the kids sometimes… she helped me find Papa.”

“That’s good, does she tell you anything?”

“She usually sings lullabies, and she tells me to be good.”

“That’s wonderful, theres no reason to be afraid of the Moon’s voice okay,” Hank smiled. “I have another question… does your Wolf have a voice as well? It’s rarer and doesn’t occur very often with born Wolves, but it doesn’t necessarily mean it's bad either.”

Laura looked back at the moment before she blacked out. There wasn’t much to remember, but a new recollection appeared in her mind as she thought back. Rip his throat out, a voice growled. “I think I do… I hear a voice.”

“That’s alright, who’s voice it? Is it yours? A friend’s?”

“It’s Papa’s… it’s his voice.”

Chapter Text

Logan lay there on the bed in silence. A lit cigar nestled in his mouth as the smoke danced in the moonlight. The air was thick and humid, combined with the scents of him, Scott, and Jean. Next to him, he could hear the couple kissing and moaning entangled together. Still, as he let out a puff of gray smoke, his hand was held tightly in Scott’s. Jean was Scott’s first, Logan knew that. Yet, out of the very few things he was allowed to own in his life, this was his. A pack he built himself, albeit not to the most conventional standards. Logan didn’t care, he was too old for conventional, and his wolf got what he was craving since he left Victor. 

Logan felt a pluck within his brain, like a strum of a guitar, a familiar hand playing in the folds of his brain. This connection was different from Charles’s, it had to be. It warmed him like a bonfire, the heat gently licking his face. This was more than Jean’s telepathy, this was Them. Entangled with his lover, Scott pulled at the connection between him and Logan, ‘I’m here,’ his Wolf said. ‘I did not forget you.’ 

Logan pulled at the connection back, feeling Scott’s hand squeeze his as they finished with a groan. Logan could feel them both, and the raw connection was still open for him to explore. He could feel deep satisfaction resting within his bones, not his but enough. Jean’s hand found Logan’s shoulder and caressed it gently. He listened to them whisper sweet nothings to each other, holding each other. Logan wasn’t one for pillow talk, at least that’s what he convinced himself to be. Usually, he would exclude himself, it was their moment, not his.

“What about you, Logan?” Jean had asked him.

“What was that, Sweetheart?” Logan zoned back into the conversation, pulling the cigar from his mouth.

“I asked if you thought about how many kids you’d like in the future,” Jean said sweetly.

Logan huffed out a laugh. “Ah… I never thought of that. You see how I am with the kids, I’d be a shit dad anyway—”

“The kids love you, Logan,” Scott insisted with a frown hidden behind his glasses.

“And you’d be a great dad,” Jean frowned as she leaned to have a firmer grip on Logan’s shoulder. 

Logan sighed, “I just… I haven’t put much thought into it. But if you and Scott decide you want children, I’ll be there.”

“You’re saying it like they wouldn’t be yours too,” Logan didn’t remember who said it, it all blended together by then. 

“...  Yeah,” Logan replied as he placed the cigar in his mouth again. He melted back into that warm consciousness, enjoying whatever he had left.

But it wasn’t enough. He was empty now without them there, and nights like these emphasized the ache. It was Friday evening, and usually, he’d be drinking until he blacked out or fighting like a dog in a Cage. But he had to see Laura, the daughter he put aside for his hedonistic tendencies to bury whatever regret he had inside of him. Instead, Logan resorted to getting tipsy off the case of beer he bought.

He lay on his futon, four of the six bottles sat empty on the blanket. He took a moment to consider himself, it was a pathetic display. Weeks of fighting, convincing himself he needed the extra money for important expenses only for most of it to feed into the bottomless pit that was his greed. Still lying on his futon, still living out of a duffle bag. Ready to pack up and leave on a dime, just like running with Victor.

As if that evil voice within him hoped, wished even, that Laura didn’t need him. He wished that she’d hate him so that when he left it wouldn’t hurt as much. When he left. When, like he was planning it. It was horrible, Logan knew that and he knew that if Jean were here she’d rip him a new one. But she wasn’t, and that small pathetic scared wolf slashed and clawed its way into Logan’s subconscious. Suddenly he wanted to be Victor’s boy again. His loyal Wolf, where he knew he was safe from tougher enemies. At least then he knew what to expect, it was so easy to not have to be good. Easy to not live up to expectations that didn’t exist, no longer having the threat of failure hanging over his head. 

And Logan hated himself for thinking it, for wanting to run away like a coward. Because no matter the fear and guilt he felt, he loved her. He loved his little girl, he’d do anything for her. He’d kill for her, without a second thought, and that too scared him. He took another gulp of his beer, draining the bottle and sighing.

“I wish you were here,” Logan whispered to no one. “I wish you were here with me. I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I wish you were here to make me stop.”

Logan sighed, he felt his body warm and his eyes water. “I wish you could take my pain away like you used to. I want it to be easy again… I wish you could see her. See how good she is, my little girl.”

Logan covered his eyes as tears started to fall. “You’d love her… I know she’d love you too. She needs you- I… I need you. I need you back.” 

Logan remembered the week before that last mission. The change in Jean’s scent. It was too early for Scott to pick up just yet, but Logan knew. Jean had wanted it to be a surprise. But it was all gone now. 

Guilt washed over Logan again. He had the greatest gift of the world, yet he was afraid of her. Afraid to ruin it. He opened another beer to drown out the sorrow quickly, then he felt something. It was light and timid, like a gentle pluck of a bow.

———

“Guys, I think I was too much of a freak,” Wade laments. 

He stood behind the bar, cleaning a glass that did not need to be cleaned simply to do something with his hands. He hadn’t seen Logan for a week other than in passing. And Friday night came and still no Logan. Vanessa sat with Cable who sat in his usual spot, while Dopinder took to actually cleaning the dirty glasses.

“Why do you say that, sweetheart?” Vanessa asked while sipping her spiked Shirley Temple.

“I haven’t seen Logan in like a week, and usually he’s here by now getting shit-faced but now it seems like he’s decided to turn a new leaf!” Wade complains.

“Maybe he finally got sick of you,” Cable grumbled.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Wade slammed his glass down. “He wanted me. I could feel it in my fangs! Something is holding him back and I intend on getting to the bottom of it— and don’t say it’s because I’m ugly.”

“I wouldn’t!” Dopinder and Vanessa say at the same time. Cable makes a face.

“You’re so mean to me, Nate.”

“You love it. Maybe it’s the pity party you’ve been elaborately crafting.”

“My cancer is not a pity party. It’s serious business! It just so happens I cannot die from it,” Wade explained.

“Maybe he's in the closet, you said he'd be older so like what Gen X? Boomer? That's common,” Vanessa suggested.

“No, because we watched cartoons and I told him my Steven Universe quip—“

“Lesbian space rocks,” everyone recounts in various degrees of exasperation.

“Lesbian space rocks, and he had no reaction!”

“Wait you just watched cartoons together? What was the freaky bit about it?” Vanessa asked.

“Well we ate burritos, watched cartoons, and then he slept on my couch and had a nightmare, he’s a violent sleeper by the way,” Wade trailed off.

“Did he hurt you?” Cable asked immediately.

“There was a slight tussle, but it was my fault for sitting too close. And if it were a perfect world I would have died from strangulation, but alas I still stand before you.”

“Wade,” Cable growled out.

“Jesus Nate I’m fine, it happened like a week ago,” Wade waves a dismissive hand. “Anyway, he gets really emo about it, and I’m doing the ‘oh don’t be afraid, be who you are’ bit, and he’s fully Edward Cullen-ing it up— or would it be Jake?”

“Focus,” Vanessa urges.

“Right, so he goes ‘You should be afraid of me’ blah blah, and me being me, I go 'Really?'” Wade recounts as he tucked an imaginary piece of hair behind his ear. “And then he ran.”

“… that was it?” Dopinder asked after the lull of silence. 

“No seriously, that was it?” Cable asked.

“Yeah, it’s not even my best work,” Wade picks up his glass again with a pout.

“And that’s the last time you talked to him? Yeesh, his loss,” Vanessa let out a huff and sipped her drink.

“Huh… Frank did mention something to me earlier this week,” Cable said.

“What did he say between the grunting and mumbling.”

“He was shocked Logan assumed you were human.”

“… Yeah, the beautifully crafted backstory of lies I’ve told this stranger, what about it?”

“Frank has been trying to get Logan to join us, he told me Logan was shocked that I would let a human in a pack, he seems very traditionalist,” Cable said.

“Oh no, racism,” Wade groaned which earned a confused look from both Vanessa and Dopinder.

“No, pack dynamics,” Cable paused before chuckling in weak disbelief. “Oh no.”

“What?” 

“Pack dynamics, Frank mentioned your ‘protected’ status,” Cable snorts and takes a swig at his drink. “Wade he’s not fucking you because he doesn't find you attractive, he’s not fucking you because he thinks I own you.”

“You don’t own shit,” Wade spat.

“He’s an old Wolf, raised by older Wolf dogma. If he doesn’t want to pick a fight with a pack lead, he’s not going to go after whatever it owns, including certain affairs.”

“Oh my god, Cable you’ve cockblocked me!”

“I didn’t do shit.”

“You’ve clockblocked me with your alpha male redpill bullshit, what the fuck!” Wade exclaimed. “I hate Wolves and their Omegaverse politics.”

“That’s porn Wade, not reality.”

“Excuse me, it is literature and a valid social commentary on modern-day society,” Wade points a finger at Cable.

“Can we please not have this argument again, Wade,” Dopinder begs.

“Only because you said please,” Wade said as he gave him a gentle pat on his head as he finally placed his glass down with the other clean dishes. "I'll fix it, like I fix everything in this house."

“Do you feel that my dear?” An incorporeal voice asked. “Do you feel that pain? That fear in the pit in your stomach?”

A hand wrapped around Wade’s gasping throat. He was shaking like a newborn, his body was cold as ice. No amount of breath could make the suffocating panic stop, and he was thirsty. It was a new thirst, thirstier than he had ever felt in his life. His stomach cramped and rolled over within him. His limbs were strapped down to whatever he was laid on, constricting his movement.

“That’s Hunger, Wade. You’ve never felt this kind of pain before, but you’ll grow familiar with it,” the voice said.

Wade knew nothing else. And when the first few drops of blood landed on his tongue he went feral for it. He wanted nothing else in the world, cared for nothing else, other than to be fed. 

“Drink your fill for now. This pain will make you stronger. You belong to me dear,” the voice said. “You will do nicely for me. A pretty boy for my Coven.”

Wade wrapped his mouth around the pouch of blood and sucked greedily. The hand on his throat never left, it was forgotten for the blood that quenched his thirst. He whined when the pouch was taken from him, failing to lift his arms that were tied down to the surface below him. The hand on his throat moved to smear the bloody mess on his face.

“Such a messy eater you are,” The voice held onto Wade’s jaw in a tight grip. “Tell me, Wade… what’s my name?”

Wade gasped awake from his nightmare. He was in pain and starving. He had run out of his blood bags and had forgotten to pick up his new near-spoiled batch. It hurt to move, and the light was blindingly bright from the crack in the blinds. He could still feel Francis's hands around his throat. Joined among the many phantom hands that violated his body. The hand that pulled at his hair before he shaved it short, the hands on his shoulders, back, and legs. The hands on his jaw to keep his mouth open as he was forced to guzzle down gallons of blood.

“Augh, fucking cunt,” Wade cursed as he closed his eyes and let his hunger roll over him.

“The fuck you just call me?” Althea asks with angry shock.

“Not you, sorry, just had a bad memory dream,” Wade said gingerly as he curled into himself. He hoped the pain would lessen by the evening, if it didn’t he’d have to commit to his last resort. 

Instead, Wade crawled his way to the fridge, with Mary following after like a fun game, and opened a pack of wilting spinach leaves from another failed salad attempt. It was dry and unpleasant, but the iron was enough to take a fraction of the pain away.

It was times like these when Wade had wished he died a horrible cancer-ridden death instead. Having to live for the rest of eternity with the reminder of the failed experiments of a mad Vampire scientist. His first Feed was blood from what Francis called an “Infinite Blood Bag.” It was supposed to heal Wade of his cancer, fix him. Instead it made him more immortal than he already was, and yet Wade suspected he had it to thank for breaking his Enthrallment. So far, it has been the only type of blood to fully satisfy his hunger, and he hasn’t had it since being a Thrall. 

“You alright hun?” Althea asks.

“I’ll be fine Al, once my pain settles I’ll go out and grab myself a bite… not from an actual person,” Wade clarifies. “Maybe a rat, no I don’t want to give you the plague. Or a raccoon or a possum… aww, no I just remembered Racoons wash their food before they eat. And Possums have fingerless gloves I can’t eat them.”

“Where are your juice bags?”
 
“Forgot them. Turns out Vampirism can’t fix Adhd isn’t that a bummer? Don’t get bit, it sucks ass.”

“I bet it does baby. Want me to call Cable?” Wade’s panic immediately spikes.

“No no! I can’t have him around! He’s like my ex,” Wade pleads.

“I don’t understand, you have Vanessa and Cable here all the time.”

“Well if I want to get with Logan, I can’t have the alpha male or whatever around!”

“Like cats?”

“Like cats, Althea!”

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” Althea grumbled. “I’m calling Cable, and don’t give me lip about it either. Alpha bullshit cats or what.”

Wade groaned from his position on the floor, the cool tile seeped into the skin on his cheek making him colder. The only source of warmth he could gather was from Mary, who tucked herself in between his shoulder and his neck. Wade stayed in that position for hours, losing track of time. He was too tired to move, and too hungry to stay conscious, not without hurting someone he loved. Instead, he listened to the fluttering heartbeats of Mary Puppins, his whole body went still like the dead. 

He could smell the blood before anything else registered in his mind. By then he was being flipped on his back and his mouth was gently pried open. The sterile taste of the blood pouch was quickly overpowered by the blood overflowing his mouth. It slipped down his throat faster than he could react and slowly dribbled down the corner of his mouth. It took only a moment to come back to reality before he was gripping onto the arm holding the bag harshly, and greedily sucking down the contents into his mouth. 

His vision started to clear then, as consciousness began to fill in the blank spaces in his mind. The sun was low, and the overpowering orange hue of the light had dimmed significantly. Cable was kneeling over him, squeezing the pouch into Wade’s mouth. Gently, Wade let go of the tight grip on Cable's wrist and moved to take the emptying blood bag from his mouth. The bruise had already begun to fade as Cable went to stand up and hide Wade’s food in the mini-fridge under the sink. 

“You need to be more proactive about that,” Cable said simply, washing his hands and grabbing a kitchen towel to clean off the spilled blood.

Wade sighed as the bite of hunger settled. “I’ve been preoccupied.”

“Being horny for your neighbor is not a valid excuse,” Cable roughly wiped the blood off Wade’s cheek.

“Can I blame it on my Adhd then?”

“No.”

“Ableist,” Wade grumbled as he rolled over to greet Mary Puppins who yipped happily. “Isn’t that right Mary? We should cancel him on twitter huh?”

Cable let out a huff as he watched Wade pet and scratch Mary. She yipped and licked as if she had seen Wade resurrect from the dead. He cleaned the blood from the floor, his nose cringed at the use of bleach and made sure to properly dispose of the bloody towel. 

“Thanks, Nate,” Wade said as he finally stood up. It was dizzying at first, but he quickly found his balance. His hunger wasn’t quite quenched, but the mind-consuming need was gone. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nate said, there was a quiet lull in the conversation. “You talk to Logan yet?”

“No, just got up so.”

“Right… I’ll get out of your hair,” Cable made a move to leave before Wade sighed and grabbed his shoulder. The initial panic of having Cable over had subsided. Seeing him race to leave Wade alone left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't want to push him away, he decided.

“Nate c’mon, don’t be awkward about it.”

“I’m not awkward.”

“We can still hang out if you want,” Wade said.

“Jesus, what is this? I’m not a teenage girl, Wade.”

“No, you’re worse. An overbearing military dad,” Wade teased. “All I have to do, is have you two like smell each other behind a door or whatever, and you two will be best buds.”

“We’re not cats, Wade,” Cable grumbled.

“So why’d it work on you and Frank?”

“Besides the point.”

“You can stay Cable. Althea misses you too you know.”

“Don’t do that, don’t pull the Althea card.”

“It was either her or Mary, you choose,” Cable waved Wade off before moving towards the door again.

“Listen I have things to do, as much as I’d want to stay I think,” Cable paused. “I think it’s best if I stay back for a bit. Not because of anything you did, I just have to make sure things are good.” 

“Alright, but we’re still good right?”

“We’re still good.”

Wade put down Mary on the floor and opened his arms wide. “Hug me.”

“Wade–.”

“C’mon, hug me. Or I’ll start crying,” Wade threatened. “Ugly crying, snot and everything. I’ll be a snotty wet mess.”

“Alright, shut up. Come here,” Cable moved in to give Wade an awkward side hug, ignoring the way he latched onto his torso like a panda. Wade rubbed his face against Cable’s shirt, leaving whatever scent he had onto him. “Wade, stop that.”

“It’s to calm you down, relax. I’m not going anywhere, alright?” Wade said, his words meaning more than what what said. 

“Alright,” Cable repeated.

“Good, now go do whatever Werewolf shit you need to do,” Wade gently pat Cable on the ass as he pulled away from the hug. 

Wade hopped into the shower soon after Cable had left. He washed Cable’s scent off of him, it smelled like an old cologne, overpowering and metallic. It was different from Logan’s, he was strong and woody, and there was a slight metallic edge to it that hit Wade’s teeth just right. It was like damp earth, and Wade didn’t know he could enjoy that scent again. 

He wondered what he smelled like to them, Death, is what Logan had said. The sickly nature of his body, and yet it hadn’t been a deterrent for Logan as far as Wade knows. Wade ran his tongue over his gums to ease the pain in his fangs and held onto the tile wall. He let the warm water of the shower spray down his back, and he tried to stop imagining his teeth sinking into flesh. 

———

Laura looked at the framed photo in her lap. The friendly smiles gazed back at her in the moonlight. It was strong now, not quite the full moon but something close to it. The voices started to sing louder.

What’s wrong mija?

The humming from the moon stopped. Laura didn’t know what was wrong, but something must have. She felt lonely now, her only free time had been heavily supervised after the fight. Her time with Russel had been significantly cut short, and it started to dawn on her that he was her only friend. 

Don’t worry about it, everything will be okay. Alright, mija?

Laura nodded to herself but found a hard time believing it. Not when her Wolf was pacing around right next to her. It was as real as the voice from the moon was, but the image of a graying brown wolf paced the perimeter of the room.

Not safe. Not safe. Who’s there? Who’s going to hurt us? Are we safe? Where’s the silver? My hands hurt. My hands hurt. My hands hurt.

Laura flexed her hands to alleviate the pressure. She cracked her knuckles, knowing it wouldn’t fix the burning pain from the silver embedded into her hands and feet. She knew Logan was glad it was only there, and insisted on making sure she was growing correctly. She still remembers the monthly check, standing against the door frame as Logan marked her height with a marker. 

It was chaotic and overwhelming, but as Laura looked back at the photo she saw a softer version of her father. Something she couldn’t get but was able to see. She wondered what Scott and Jean would have been like as parents. What Logan would have been like if he hadn’t lost so much. She saw Rogue as an older sister, Logan’s estranged first daughter. Storm seemed like the most like an aunt, firm but gentle. She had considered calling Charles her grandfather but worried she was growing attached too quickly. And to complete the strange offset family, Hank was her quirky uncle like in the TV shows. She remembered watching stray episodes of Full House and desperately wanting a family like that. A pack.

There was a section in My Little Wolf and Me that talked about pack dynamics. Forming a connection and plucking it like a string for others to feel. She tried to do it with Logan before, hoping it would bring her comfort but was met with silence. Tonight she’d try again. Tired, in pain, and lonely, she imagined a guitar string and plucked it absentmindedly. 

She didn’t expect anything to happen, so she pulled and plucked over and over. Pulling imaginary ropes and shooting imaginary arrows until… a pluck back. Like a strum of a guitar, it was loud and powerful. Her wolf stilled, and the moon stopped humming. She plucked again, the response was almost immediate this time. And she was flooded with emotions that she was certain were not hers. A great sadness and guilt is felt the most with a mixed joy and pride. That part of the connection was quickly closed, though she suspected not from her own doing. 

She couldn’t hear his voice, but she could imagine it with the gentle strum that replied from her tiny pluck. Go to sleep, Sweetheart.

“Do you want to meet my dad,” Laura had asked during breakfast. 

Russell looked up from the comic he was reading as he ate his oatmeal and gasped, dropping a blueberry from his spoon back into the bowl. “Really!”

“He’s visiting today, do you want to see him?” Laura asked again.

“Yeah! Do you think he’d sign my sketchbook, that would be so cool! Having the Wolverine’s autograph, I could sell that shit for so much on eBay- eh not that I would… but I could.”

“No,” Laura replied simply. 

Russell hid the pout on his face behind a mouthful of oatmeal. “No that’s cool, that's cool. He’s like pretty lowkey I understand that. I wouldn’t want to be hounded down by fans either, you know.” 

Laura shrugged and picked around her oatmeal, her strawberries were already eaten and she wasn’t really hungry for more but she knew Storm or Rogue would be anxious if she didn’t eat. She was already in trouble enough, and she didn’t want to add more eyes to her behavior. 

“I can finish it if you want,” Russell motioned. Laura gave Russell an appreciative look and gently pushed her bowl towards him. 

“Do you have a dad?” Laura asked, realizing she didn’t know much about Russell’s personal life.

The cheeriness in his personality quickly faded. “Uh, no. The punk asses gave me up when they found out I was a pyro, somehow made it here. Was in this fuckass orphanage before I got to Xavier’s.”

“Oh,” Laura said, not quite sure how to respond. “I only met my dad when I was eight. I was raised… in a bad place, like a hospital before that.”

She didn’t know why she was sharing, but it felt right to her to offer a bit of herself in exchange for Russell’s vulnerability. She didn’t quite know how to comfort, so she tried her best to emulate what Logan would have done.

“Shit, that sounds bad. How’d you get out?”

“It’s okay, mija,” Gabriela consoled. “Everything will be okay, but I need you to be quiet.”

Everything had hurt. Her hands and feet ached, wrapped in gauze and still raw from the procedure. It would take a while for her healing factor to fully take care of it, being so young the doctors said. She tried not to cry, but she found it hard cradled in Nurse Gabriela’s arms being hidden in a dingy motel. 

Laura could smell the shift in her scent, she had been turned into one of Them. Most likely a last ditch effort to burn the evidence of whatever was left. It must have backfired somehow, she wasn’t Enthralled like the other nurses or doctors. 

“I’m going to find you a new home, okay?” Gabriela whispered. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

It was the middle of the day, and she couldn’t keep traveling but that also meant They couldn’t either. They’d leave before the sunset when it was still painful to move but bearable enough to not burn up. 

“Did you know you have a father? Hm,” she asked. “He’s a good man, I know, I looked. I’ve seen what he has done for people like you… like us now. He will keep you safe.”

Laura clung to her harder. Muffling her cries in Gabriela’s scrubs. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Hush, mija, I need you to be good please,” Gabriela had begged. “I cannot keep you safe, not for very long. Be good for your father, let him take care of you.”

Gabriela held Laura tighter in her arms, humming a lullaby to convince her to sleep before sundown. Shushing her as she cried, the closest woman she had to a mother.

“… my… my mom she took me away,” Laura whispered.

“Oh, when do you see her?” 

“She died,” Laura said simply.

“Shit, Sorry,” Russell cringed.

“You didn’t know, why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t know, I feel bad.”

“It’s okay,” Laura said. “I’m safe now. She made sure.”

“Someone took me from the orphanage and brought me here. We were like best friends for a bit, he still checks up and sends letters and stuff but he’s busy most of the time,” Russell said.

“That’s nice,” Laura said earnestly.

It was strange, Laura found herself nervous when waiting on the porch for her father. Of course, she knew he’d be upset about her in time in detention and isolation, but that wasn’t at the forefront of her mind. No, she was worried about asking her father what it meant to hear those guiding voices in her head. Of course, Hank had no shame in talking to Laura about it, but it wasn’t the same coming from the man who taught her everything she knew now.

Hank had reassured her that Logan’s guiding voice wasn’t bad, but it had gone unchecked. Knowing this would cause future problems if ignored, Hank had contacted Logan to meet with him. And as Logan’s truck pulled into the driveway, Laura felt the tension melt away. Logan stepped out of the car and walked up to the front. Laura quickly got up from her seat and raced towards her father, tightly wrapping him in a hug.

“Hey sweetheart,” Logan said as he kneeled and hugged back. “I missed you too.”

Laura her face into his chest and froze slightly. His scent had changed, familiar. Like how he smelled when she first met him: a deep sadness wrapped in forest fire smoke and a burning alcohol smell. He started drinking again, Laura knew immediately. She looked up into his eyes and saw the bags that weighed down on them. Her disappointment was immense, but instead of pulling away she held tighter. 

She had nothing else, and while she hated his broken promise, she knew Logan had no one else too. She pulled on that string once more, easier in close proximity. Logan strummed back, and a happy growl slipped between the two of them.

Laura pulled away, and from behind her, she could tell Russell was bursting at the seams. “Papa, this is my friend, Russell.”

Logan stood to his full height to assess, squinting before greeting. “Hello, Russell. How old are you?”

“I-I’m twelve, almost thirteen sir,” Russell said, moving to shake his hand. “I’m a real huge fan Mr. Wolverine sir.”

Laura groaned at the performance. “Uh, thanks kid,” Logan said as he awkwardly shook his hand. “I gotta admit my X-men days are a little before your time.”

“Oh no, not that, I mean,” Russell leaned in to whisper. “The Wolverine, like Wolverine and Sabertooth.”

“Excuse me?” Logan asked gruffly, a frown quickly etched into his face.

“Yeah! I mean obviously, I wasn’t there to see you guys fight, but I used to watch your underground fights all the time! There’s like an archive, and—“Before Russell could continue, Laura slapped a hand over his mouth to stop him from speaking.

“You said you would be cool,” Laura said harshly. She sensed the souring of Logan’s mood. He never liked talking about his fighting, especially with his brother. 

“Oh, right, sorry. Lowkey,” Russell said taking a step back. “I’m a really big fan… could you sign my notebook.”

“No,” Logan said in exasperated disbelief.

“Russell,” Laura growled out.

“I had to try,” Russell defended.

“Russell, are you causing trouble?” A voice had said. Storm walked up from the front door with her hands on her hips.

“No Ms. Munroe, I was just saying hi,” Russell said.

“Uh huh, well me and Mr. Howlett have a meeting to attend to, I’m sorry to leave you hanging,” Ororo said gently with immense suspicion. “You think you can find something to do while I take Laura with us?”

“Yes ma’am. Bye Laura, bye… Mr. Howlett,” Russell said as if it were an inside joke.

“You alright?” Storm asked.

“I feel like I just got blackmailed,” Logan grumbled. 

“Oh Russell? He’s harmless, ain’t that right?”

“Uh huh,” Laura agreed. 

“That’s the… Firefist kid, right?” 

“The one and only,” Storm confirmed.

“Great,” Logan sighed. “Amazing. Let’s go see Charles.”

———

Despite the meeting being about Laura, Logan couldn’t help but feel as though he was in trouble as well. He sat in one of the, frankly uncomfortable, chairs in Charles’s office, surrounded by: Storm, Hank, Rogue, Charles himself, and other caretakers on campus.

“It’s been quite some time since we last spoke Logan,” Charles started. “I hope everything is alright, you left quite unexpectedly the last time I saw you.”

Logan shifted in his seat. “Yeah, uh everything’s alright.”

“Splendid. I’m sure you’re aware that this isn’t simply a social call, however,” Charles said.

“Yes, yes I’m aware. Laura has had some trouble uh,” Logan paused. “Socializing. I will have to defend her integrity here, she’s never been someone to fight unprovoked.”

“We have handled that situation accordingly. Rest assured we will be keeping an eye on those students from now on,” Storm provided.

“However, there are more troubling matters that must be addressed. Hank, if you please,” Charles motioned to Hank who took a step forward to enter the conversation. Daunting, yet his actions were slow.

“Laura informed me that she has a history of blackouts during shifts or fits of anger, is that something you’ve noticed?” Hank asked.

Logan was becoming acutely aware of the eyes on him. His leg started to bounce as he tried to massage the oncoming pain in his hands. 

“Yes, partially,” Logan answered. “It was something I had dealt with when I was younger, I thought it was just something I passed on. Something that she’d grow out of. I thought she had.”

“Evidently not it seems. She told me the last thing she remembered from the recent altercation was suddenly waking up in my office,” Hank’s frown deepened. “Let me be clear, in no way am I implying that you have been complicit in this situation. But there are things that need to be addressed so we can further help Laura.”

“For instance, can you tell us about the last two years you’ve spent with her,” Charles asked.

Logan tensed. Pointedly his mind was still shut out from Charles, but he could still feel the gentle knocking at his consciousness. Logan looked over at Laura who had started to chew on her hair, gazing at the wood grain on the desk. Charles’s eyes flickered between the two of them.

“Please know I will not violate your autonomy, if you do not wish for me to rummage around I will respect your privacy. However, I must ask that you be honest with me to the best of your ability.” 

“Chuck, I,” Logan started before having to take a moment. “This isn’t… easy for me. I wasn’t the perfect parent for a long time… a really long time.” 

“How so?” Charles asked softly.

Logan looked down at Laura, he knew she had already picked up on his broken promise. And the sadness that reached her eye when she finally pulled away from that hug had almost broken him in two. So Logan sat there as he struggled to do his best to help his daughter be better than him.

“I was a mess, after… After. Even when Laura first got to me. I was,” Logan looked up at Charles as if pleading. “I am… a drunk. But I have never wanted to put Laura in harm’s way, I promise you that. I haven’t been the perfect role model for Laura, and I can’t be but I need her safe.”

The words were like bricks on his tongue. Never once did he think he’d admit the grip his vices had on him. Charles frowns and clasps his hands together as if deep in thought.

“You believe her behavior is your fault?” 

“Partially. I know wherever she came from fucked her up, but I haven’t exactly been a beacon of healing either,” Logan admitted. “Please don’t take her away. I’ve been trying, I promise I have.” Laura had grasped at Logan's arm in a tight grip then, still chewing on her hair with more vigor.

“No one was planning on taking her away, Logan,” Rogue said quickly, putting a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just… where I raised her at first wasn’t the safest. It was supposed to be a pit stop for me, stay a couple of months to a year, leave the next cycle. But someone brought her to me and I couldn't leave, it was dangerous for us there.”

“Dangerous how,” Hank asked.

“We had a run in with hunters, I fought them off.”

“Unfortunately it seems Laura has spent a significant portion of her life in a hypervigilant state,” Charles said.

“Is she,” Logan’s eyes flickered toward Laura, gently he pulled the hair from her mouth. “Is she feral? Like me? Did I fuck up?”

There was a pregnant pause in the conversation before Hank answered. “We… can’t know for certain. There are signs, however, she has shown progress here.”

“She’s doing well in her classes,” Rogue said.

“And a healthy amount of curiosity and imagination for a child. Her age regression seems to be a coping mechanism rather than something we’d need to tackle immediately,” Storm said. Logan was worried about Laura’s interest being quite young for her age, but he didn’t know what the best way to address it was.

“And she has a pack, with you and here at the school,” Charles said. “We are committed to helping you both, but please Logan… let us help.”