Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A large stack of pancakes sat in the middle of the table. Next to it was a bowl of mixed berries, cheap maple syrup and butter. Three places had been set, each with a special mug and plate.

A well loved Pinky Pie themed mug with the phrase ‘let’s party!’ and plate was placed in the spot facing the door. Wade had decided, after the traumatic night that had ended with Vanessa’s death, that when it came to eating meals with family, he always needed to be facing the door, or at least within view of it, so he could act swiftly against any threats. A Beretta M9 was duct taped to the underside of the table within easy reach.

Al’s spot was on the left side, with her back to the living room area. A chipped mug with ‘blind and looking for trouble’ written on it, rested near a thick lipped winter themed plate covered in snowflakes. Her spot allowed her a safe and clear passage back to the couch.

As for Logan, his spot was on the right, right by the window. A mug with Applejack saying ‘I an’t budgin’ sat next to an apple family themed plate, lovingly chosen and purchased by Wade. His spot had maximum sun exposure - which Wade had learned was rather important to the chronically need to be outside man - and was closest to the bedroom. This came in handy on those days when Logan was too peopled out and needed to retreat.

Wade placed three pancakes on Al’s plate and covered them in butter and syrup “Pancakes are right in the middle. Your cup is at 9 O’clock and the cutlery is at 3.”

Both Wade and Logan did little, yet very helpful things, for Althea. Wade would make sure she was fed first and used the clock system to help guide her with eating. As for Logan, he would always sit right beside her during TV time and acted as walking, talking, closed captioning. He also made sure to keep the place spotless as to make sure there were no obstacles for her to trip over.

“Where’s Logan?” Asked Althea.

“Not sure” replied Wade as he sat down and began to serve himself “But what I am sure of is Pinky Pie needs to fucking chill.” He placed a massive stack of pancakes on his plate and covered them in a disgusting amount of butter and maple syrup.

Al sighed “I don’t fuckin’ care…”

Ignoring her, Wade continued to ramble “She’s being such a hypocrite, you know? She get’s to marry Weird Al’s pony sona and poor ol’ Maud can’t have her Sheldon? Gimme a break!”

“Now hold on” she interrupted “Pinky doesn’t start dating Weird Al until season 9. Sheldon’s introduced in season 8. People can change their opinions and evolve, Wade.”

Wade squealed and slapped the tabletop “I fucking knew it! You’re secretly a brony!”

“Really hard not to memorize all this pony shit after having to sit through the entire fucking series for the THIRD FUCKING TIME!” she replied, exasperated.

“It’s my comfort show, Al -“ Wade moved his fork as he talked, causing some syrup to spatter onto the table “besides I-“

Clad in a red and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a white tank peaking out from underneath, dog tags dangling from his neck, jeans and barefoot, Logan walked toward them on all fours. His body language seemed far more natural and relaxed than Wade had ever seen before. He walked with a steady stride and absolute focus.

Wade watched as he walked toward his spot at the table and hopped up onto the chair. He sat on his haunches like a cat.

“Well, mind telling me what’s gotten you all quiet?”

“Now, isn’t this just super fucking interesting. Lolo!” Wade resumed his eating and spoke casually, as if discussing the weather “I didn’t know you walked on all fours. I just thought that, that was something you did during kick ass battles.”

“Is this some pet play bullshit? I’ve told ya’ll already that I don’t want any of your goddamn kinks or sex bleeding out of the bedroom.” Althea said, sounding very much like a mother who had repeated herself one too many times.

Logan tensed. He’d done it again - got too comfortable and fucked it all up. Everywhere he went, everyone he’d ever met and attached himself to, it always ended the same way: either they were killed, or they became disgusted with him the moment his human mask slipped and his feral side showed itself.

Just as he was about to adjust his posture to sit more normally he heard Wade pause in his eating “No. It’s not a kink. it’s his mutation…..I think.”

“Morning, peanut.” Wade greeted with a grin. He leaned over and placed a very generous amount of pancakes on Logan’s plate, making sure to hit the salt bae pose as he sprinkled some berries over them. “what cha dooooin?”

“……..sitting.” Logan picked a pancake up with his bare hands and bit into it.

“You think? He’s been here for 3 months, Wade. If it’s his mutation then why’s he just doing this now?”

What was he supposed to say? that walking upright and suppressing his feral urges for too long gave him a terrible migraine? That the added weight of the adamantium was sometimes so overwhelming that walking on all fours was the only way to get himself moving? That constantly suppressing his feral nature made him miserable?

He placed the pancake back on his plate, sighed, and settled for a lame “it helps.”

“Gonna need a little more than that, honey. How does it help?” Asked Althea as she tried to coax more information out of him.

It was moments like these that made him feel stupid. Fluent in seven languages but unable to do something as simple as expressing his feelings in plain English - god, how pathetic. “The adamantium……s'heavy.”

Althea frowned “what's he talking about, Wade?”

“Sorry honey badger” he said to Logan, patting his shoulder in sympathy “gonna have to drop some backstory.”

He turned back to Althea “You know that fuckshit I went through with that weapon X program?” He shovelled several pieces of pancake in his mouth and swallowed “Logan went through that too, but way worse, cus he didn’t volunteer” another bite “They injected his bones with adamantium and made him super fuckin’ sturdy.”

“What do you mean, injected his bones?”

“Pretty straight forward, Al” he occasionally glanced at Logan as he explained “his bones are metal. That’s why he’s so heavy….um, anyways - “ Wade quickly changed the subject as he could see the distress on Logan’s face “that's, that on that.”

Still staring at his plate, Logan breathed in to steel himself. Mentally repeating the positive affirmations that Wade had taught him, as he pushed down all the doubt and fear. They loved him. They would understand. It would be ok. “s'like I’m pretending. When I walk upright, eat with utensils…consume food that I can’t fucking stand….just so I can fit in. It’s so exhausting n'I fucking hate it.”

Wade placed a hand on his shoulder “you know we love you, right?” Logan nodded “Then why not just be yourself?”

“Didn’t want you thinking I’m some kinda animal.” He was silent for a long moment before adding “I…I didn’t want to be -“ Logan rubbed the back of his neck, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“Kicked out?” Wade supplied. Logan nodded.

A brief silence filled the room.

“I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have assumed.” she placed a hand upon his and squeezed. Wade did the same. “You’re a part of the family, you got that? Family sticks together. So, you do things how you like, honey, and if anyone has the fuckin’ audacity to give you shit for it here, I'll kick them out myself.”

“She’s right, Lolo, no one here is going to give you shit for things you can’t help. If changing the way you do things is going to make you happy in our crack home, then go for it. We’re here for you, peanut.”

For the first time in a very long time, Logan felt happy and at peace. With a smile so bright and brilliant that it put the sun to shame, he said “thank’s guys..”

Chapter Text

Healing factors were a bitch and a half due to the massive amount of calories it took each day just to keep oneself functioning. Unlike Wade, who wasn’t a light eater by any means, Logan ate like a goddamn tank and yet never gained any weight. Wade nearly shit himself when Logan had revealed that it took the bare minimum of 4000 calories a day to keep himself going. Anything less than that for a long period of time made him feel sluggish and light headed.

Logan’s monstrous appetite was also extremely weird, and if Wade was honest with himself, kinda gross. There was the 1500 calorie mystery shake that he’d consume at least once a day. It tasted awful, and the texture was nearly gag inducing, but Logan insisted it was very useful for hitting those calorie targets - especially when eating felt too much like a chore.

He also ate plenty of vegetables, berries and fish, but hated pineapple, grapefruit and anything bitter with a passion. The only exception to this seemed to be beer and alcohol in general, though Wade assumed that because he had been consuming it for so long that he really wasn't tasting it anymore. A very common treat that Logan often indulged in was a mix of berries, honey, plain yogurt, chia seeds and cinnamon. When it came to overly sugary or processed foods, Logan would outright refuse to indulge, saying ‘it smells and tastes like shit’. The one time Wade did get him to indulge in some monster energy, Logan had made a truly awful face and nearly puked all over the floor.

Then there was the meat…

“Mornin’ peanut, cookin’ up some breakfast?” Clad in his hello kitty PJ’s, Wade walked into their tiny ass kitchen with a massive yawn. He regarded Logan with a loving eye and set about preparing himself a big cup of hot chocolate.

Logan grunted. He opened the package of steak, held it like a fucked up sandwich, and bit into it. The sound of Logan’s canines tearing through the meat and the sounds of his enthusiastic chewing echoed through the tiny apartment caused Wade to shudder in disgust.

“You know you gotta cook the steak before eating it, right?” Wade blurted out. He topped the hot chocolate with a liberal amount of whipped cream.

Logan paused in his eating and regarded Wade with dilated eyes. As the blood dripped down his chin and onto the floor, Wade couldn’t help but to compare the unsettling scene to a wolf devouring its prey.

With a mouthful of meat, he muttered “no, don’t need to.”

Though he outwardly looked human, Logan had several physical, mental and emotional animal characteristics that set him apart from others. One said characteristic was the ability to safely digest raw meat, both frozen and fresh, without the need for cooking.

Wade cringed “I love you, but Jesus fucking christ that can’t be healthy.”

“Nothing wrong with it” Logan said, polishing off the steak. He began to lick the blood off his fingers, one finger at a time “doesn’t taste as good as elk or deer but it’ll do.”

Wade narrowed his eyes and took a sip of his hot chocolate “ewww.”

“Sides’” he pointed to Wade’s mug “how's it any worse than that shit you’re drinking?” Logan made an odd sound that resembled an in-between of a chirp and a cluck as he continued to lick up the blood.

Confused, Wade glanced at his cup and then back to Logan.

He pointed to the fridge “That’s pure sugar, n'half the food in there is processed shit n'covered in pesticides.” He scoffed “you’re gonna get up my ass for eating raw meat while gobbling down all that?” Logan laughed “fuck off.”

Wade took a big sip “You know, I gotta ask - how the fuck were you able to afford to eat like this back in your universe, Mr.Moneybags? Did you use the five finger discount or-?”

“I foraged n’caught my own prey. Lived off the land” Logan interrupted. He had a wistful smile and looked to be rather relaxed as he recounted his time in the wilderness “Slept under the stars n’ate whatever prey I caught that day.”

“So…you’re telling me” Wade put his cup down on the counter and walked toward Logan “that you fucking hunted, killed, and ate that shit on all fours like a goddamn giant kitty?” When Logan nodded, Wade made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a moan “no shit? god, that is so hot and also super fucking gross. My dick is very conflicted right now.”

Logan laughed then snorted. He grabbed another steak - this time with his mouth - got on all fours and walked toward the table where he settled under it and began to eat. Wade watched as Logan took his time, lapping up the blood, ripping and chewing - he let out another moan.

“God, I wish that were me.”

Chapter Text

Wade and Logan sat on the couch. Re runs of the Golden Girls played on the TV, casting a warm glow on the pair in the darkness. Logan’s head was in Wade’s lap and Wade was content with simply petting his hair, scratching behind his ears and occasionally running his hands down Logan’s back.

“I used to live in a wolf pack.”

The confession is so sudden and so out of left field that Wade was temporarily rendered speechless. “Oh yeah?” Wade finally managed to say, still shocked that Logan was willingly sharing information about himself.

Logan’s voice was soft as he remembered “Don’t remember how I got there, or much bout’ what happened before, but I remember layin’ in the snow - lost and scared - and the wolf pack that found me.“ Logan closed his eyes, and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of Wade petting his hair “they were starvin’ n’there I was, a big strong thing that could help hunt.”

Naked and frightened, Weapon X laid down, exposing its stomach in submission. Its gaze rested on the snow’s brilliant sparkle that was illuminated by the moon’s glow and its mouth fell open as a frightened whimper escaped it. A sniff, a lick, and a howl. White pelts flooded its vision as the pack curled around it, covering it in their warmth and scent.

Wade smiled and scratched behind Logan’s ear causing the other to pump his leg like a dog “I felt safe” Logan said softly as he played with the material of Wade’s Kuromi pyjama pants.

Wades voice was soft and comforting, like a soothing rain “what were they like?”

“Tough as nails” Logan said, a small smile making its way onto his face “patient. Back then, I didn’t know who I was or even what I was. I remember the only thing I knew for certain was that -“ he frowned and curled in on himself. Wade placed a comforting hand on Logan’s bicep and squeezed, hoping the pressure would help. “That I was an it; some…weapon that knew how to kill n'little else.”

Wade gave him another squeeze and then went back to petting his hair.

“I learned how to hunt, track n'fight right alongside the pups. The pack didn’t see me as some monster…they just saw a pup that needed to be trained.” He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes “overtime that human part of me, or what little was left of it, just faded into the background like a whisper.”

“That explains a lot, Lolo” Wade chuckled “noticed a while back that the way you act is kinda like an in-between. You eat and make wolverine sounds, but act like a wolf. My little wolvie, you’re just so perfect!” He bent down and placed a kiss on Logan’s forehead.

Wade sat back up and let his hand rest on Logan’s stomach “If you were happy, then why did you leave?”

“A polar bear killed them” Logan said sadly. He frowned, his voice shaking just ever so slightly “we were hungry n'desperate. I’d go first, make the kill, but that day…that day was different.”

He paused for a moment, swallowing down a sob “the pack hadn’t properly eaten in so long n'I tried so desperately to keep them fed but the prey was few and far between n' what little I did manage to catch I’d give to them. “

“Oh, Peanut” Wade sadly whispered.

“I - I didn’t know, Wade. When I slept, when I fought;what I fought…even my diet, every aspect was controlled by the man in glasses. If I'd known…” he swallowed once more, and grabbed Wade’s hand to help ground himself “It killed me first, n’by the time I woke up, the pack was dead.”

Weak and heartbroken, Weapon X sat in the snow, surrounded by the mutilated bodies of his pack. The sound of the sharp crunch of teeth on bone caused Weapon X to look up and watch helplessly as the bear ate what remained of a pup. It released a guttural cry, mourning the loss of its family.

“Lolo, I’m so sorry.”

“I Don’t blame the bear….it was hungry n'scared. But I…in that moment, among the corpses of my pack..when I saw it eat the pup…I ran. I got them killed n'I ran like I always do, I -“

Wade hushed him “there was nothing you could’ve done, Lolo.” He ran his fingers over Logan’s hand in comfort, trying to stop the negative spiral “you didn’t know the calorie rule. But, Lolo, you eventually learned and remembered. Althea and I are so damn proud of you, my little protector.”

So focused on the effort it took not to burst into tears, Logan did not reply. A stray tear fell and Wade wiped it away with the utmost tenderness before showering Logan’s face with kisses, saying affirmations and praises between each smooch. “my big, strong, bestest boy. So brave and smart.”

Logan gave a shaky smile and allowed himself to be kissed. It had been so long since anyone had given him such affection and it was only until now that he realized how much he had hungered for it. As he looked at Wade’s scarred face and beautiful eyes, he reached up to stroke Wade’s cheek and said, before kissing him on the lips, “you n' Althea are my pack now.”

Together they fell asleep on the couch in each other's embrace, warm and covered in each other's scent.

————

With a smile that could outshine the very sun itself, and excitement pouring from every pore, Wade Wilson held his hands behind his back and said “Close your eyes and hold out your hands, Peanut!”

Confused, Logan obeyed, letting out a small growl. A soft, fluffy bundle was placed into his hands. It smelled like the Central Park Zoo and cardboard. He could smell the excitement coming off of Wade in waves which did nothing but add to his confusion.

“Ok, open!” Wade said with a cry of delight.

It was an arctic wolf plushie. Very realistic and floppy with striking gold eyes. Logan held it in his hands, looked up at Wade and back at the plush. It looked just like the little pups from his pack - the ones he couldn’t save. A feeling of protectiveness welled within and he hugged it to his chest, unwilling to let go.

Unsure of what to say, he could only manage a pathetic “Thank you, Wade.”

“I knew you’d love it! When I saw it at the zoo I just knew you had to have it. So…you gonna give it a name?”

Logan looked down at the plush in his arms and said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world “Pup.”

Wade would come to associate the appearance of Pup as an indicator of when Logan was deep in his feral mindset - in which he would walk by on all fours with Pup held in his mouth by the scruff - or the aftermath of a nightmare where he would be found curled into the corner of their bedroom and clutching Pup like a lifeline.

It was during these times that both he and Althea quickly learned not to try and touch or take Pup from him, as it would always result in a low, dangerous, growl. Ignoring the growl, as Wade had learned, would result in a very painful and vicious bite - as if Logan was protecting it; Pup was a second chance against that bear; A way to protect that poor pup that had been eaten decades ago.

But most importantly Pup was more than that. Pup was a comfort that Wade had bought to be there for Logan when he couldn’t.

Chapter Text

Logan was hunched over, his forehead nearly touching the floor. His hands were placed over his ears and his eyes were squeezed shut. With a frown, Wade knelt down beside him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, hoping the contact would help soothe Logan during his meltdown “It’ll be ok, Peanut.”

Gently, Althea asked “can you tell us what's wrong, baby?”

“Shut up!” Logan frantically bit out, showing his teeth and letting out a vicious snarl “both of you, please just shut the fuck up!”

Taken aback, Althea found herself shocked into silence. Logan was a mean, grumpy, traumatized little asshole, but he was never rude to her. Althea placed a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she lowered herself to the ground to sit beside him, unwilling to let his anger scare her away.

Aside from the putrid smells, and the constant hustle and bustle, the biggest reason why Logan was never able to stay in any city for too long was the constant, ear shattering, noises. Every conversation, every tiny sound, every goddamn party - he could hear it all and it was making him anxious and stressed; It was a constant and never ending sensory assault and he just wanted it to end.

“Too loud” He finally replied, shaking his head as if it would help the excess noise go away. The thought of driving his claws through his eardrums was extremely tempting, even though he knew the peace would be short lived, it would be a few blissful seconds of rest from this never ending torment.

As if reading his mind, Wade placed his hands on top of Logan’s and held firm.

“What’s too loud?” Althea asked, rubbing his back.

“Everything!” He violently flinched after a car alarm went off two blocks away.

On some level she knew what he was going through. Being blind meant her hearing was much more sensitive than most, which sometimes lead to moments where she felt extremely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of sensory bullshit that went on all around her.

From what Wade had explained, Logan’s hearing, smell and sight, was closer to that of a wolf than an actual humans. He could hear sounds as faint as a heartbeat from several rooms away and visibly recoiled from establishments that utilized the mosquito alarm. She couldn’t imagine the absolute torture that he was experiencing right now.

Althea rubbed Logan’s back “there, there, honey, it’ll be ok.”

“I’ll be right back” Wade said to Althea.

He went into the bedroom and opened the closet. On the top shelf, hidden behind some sweaters, was a box with the emblem for Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters emblazoned on the lid. Inside was a pair of noise canceling headphones. They closely resembled a pair of regular headphones, black, with yellow detailing and very minimalist and unassuming in design. They were designed and built by Forge, upon request by Wade, as a way to make trips to the grocery and malls easier for Logan.

Each side of the speakers had a barely noticeable button smack dab in the middle. Pressing it once would activate the headphones and cancel out all sound. Pressing them again would filter sound and reduce it to a level that would allow Logan to experience sound the way a regular person would and pressing it once more would turn them off.

Outside of their home, his beau turned into a non verbal, impenetrable fortress of toxic masculinity, unwilling to show any weakness or let anyone in. With the life Logan had lived, and the incredible amounts of abuse he had suffered, Wade wasn’t surprised that he was like this. With a sigh, Wade tightened his grip on the headphones and looked down at them. He hoped Logan would like them and at least consider wearing them outside the house.

With a quick stride, he returned to Logan’s side. Wade took Logan’s hands in his, lowered them and then quickly slipped the headphones on. He pressed the button and the effect was immediate. Logan stopped moving for a moment, his distress melting away, then slowly opened his eyes and sat up.

“….s'quiet” Logan murmured.

Logan then got up, and wandered toward the window. With greedy eyes he took in the sites of New York in silent awe, looking very much like a baby deer that had just been introduced to the world only moments ago.

“I can’t hear anything!” he said incredulously, after staring out the window for a few minutes.

Althea smiled and said “you’re yelling, honey.”

Careful not to startle him, Wade cautiously walked up to Logan. He tapped him on the shoulder, waited until Logan was facing him, and pressed the button, allowing him to hear once more without feeling overwhelmed.

“After your meltdown at the grocery store…I wanted to help, so I had Forge custom make these for you, Peanut. Only had to threaten him just a little.”

He then said, excited as could be “it’s got two modes. One can block out all sound and the other, the one you’re using now, reduces sound so you can hear like I do. Now you can go shopping with us! Or not, I mean, if you don’t want to then you don’t have to, but I’d really like it if you did Peanut, but like…no pressure. So, do you like them?” Wade asked with a smile as he fidgeted with his hands.

Logan was silent for a long moment, unsure of what to say. He wanted to tell Wade how unbelievably grateful he was for the gift; that every ounce of kindness his pack had shown him was chipping away at his walls of self hatred and shame and was teaching him that it was ok to be loved and vulnerable. But he had never been good at telling other’s how he felt.

As overwhelmed as he was, all Logan could muster was a very pathetic “yes” before he turned and walked away.

Logan walked over to Althea, took her hand, and helped her up and to the couch. He sat down beside her and said, full of remorse and embarrassment “I apologize for cussing at you, Althea. It won’t happen again.”

“Good. You know better than that, Logan.” She regarded him for a long moment with a knowing smile, and patted his hand “I’d scold you, but there’d be no point. You’re doing a fine job doing that all on your own.”

Logan let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl, and face palmed. He felt embarrassed, tired, and wanted to run into the bedroom, shut the lights off, and hide for the next sixty years.

“It’s all good, honey badger” Wade sat down, sandwiching Logan in the middle of the couch between himself and Althea “no one got hurt, and nothing was destroyed, so don’t be so hard on yourself, Lolo. As I said, it’s all - oh!”

Logan suddenly grabbed Wade and pulled him close, then rubbed his nose against Wade’s. While living with the wolf pack, Logan had learned that after a fight, the subordinates would always rub noses with the dominates as a way to say sorry and to reconcile with their pack mates.

He did this for a long moment, hoping his feelings would be conveyed, before pulling away. With his hands still on Wade’s shoulders, he nervously swallowed and waited for Wade to speak.

Wade blushed furiously then rambled “w-wow, Lolo, I love you too. That’s what that meant, right? That you love me more than you love alcohol and cigars and all the meat in the world?”

“Wade” Althea interjected.

Ignoring her, he then switched topics “You know, Lolo, I bet you could wear those to bed. Sleeping on your side might be a bit difficult but, I mean, It’d be a really good nights sleep -“

“WADE!” Althea thwacked Wade’s ankles with her cane “you’re rambling. Let the poor boy speak.”

“Poor boy” he chortled “he’s over 200, Al. He’s older than you. Though you are pretty ancient. Say, didn’t you used to sit next to Jesus in elementary school?”

“Motherfucker!” She made a move to stand, but then was stopped by Logan, who placed a gentle hand on her arm.

He cleared his throat, blushed, and said, as if admitting a deep dark secret “Can’t hear your heartbeats with em’ on. Can’t hear, can’t sleep. Makes me anxious.”

“Awwwww, Peanut! ” Wade gushed, at the same time Althea muttered “cutest shit I ever heard.”

Chapter Text

For what seemed like the millionth time that day, Logan bounced his leg, played with his fingers, paced, and grumbled. It felt as though there was endless energy within and even though he had just gotten back from a two hour workout from the gym, he still had loads of energy to burn and it was driving him crazy.

The worst part was this feeling had only increased throughout the week. The inner animal within longed for more activity but being trapped in this smelly city meant there were only so many places he could go. The gym was nice, but he needed more. He needed to run. He needed to be outside. He just needed to be able to let go and be free.

“Ok, that’s it!” Althea put down her phone and walked over to the living room couch. Using her cane she gave Logan’s ankles a hard, quick, thwack “what the fuck is wrong with you? You’ve been acting weird all damn week!”

Running his hands down his face with a sigh, Logan got off the couch and began to pace “I feel like m'loosin’ my damn mind.”

“Then why not go for a run?” She kindly suggested, annoyance lacing her tone.

“Did that. Twice. Then I went to the gym, n’I want to go back but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Humans are getting suspicious.”

“For the love of god Logan, don’t make me play twenty questions.“

He looked heavenward and sighed “apparently human’s need something called rest days after they work out? M'already pushing it with my 600lbs deadlift, don’t even know why….its not even heavy.”

Althea was silent for a moment. She turned toward Logan’s direction with a hum “what would you consider heavy?”

He thought hard for a moment then said “900lbs, but if I get pissed off enough I can lift heavier things….why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

It was then that Althea had realized two very important things. The first was that Logan was constantly holding himself back. How much self control would it take, she thought, to do something like cracking an egg or something as simple as holding someone else’s hand? No wonder he was so on edge.

The second was that because he was socially isolated for such a long time, he was absolutely clueless when it came to many non verbal social rules. This she already knew, but she had no idea it was this bad.

She shook her head, laughed a little, and muttered 'good lord’ “I can understand why people are getting suspicious. Bless your heart, baby.”

An embarrassed flush made its way across his cheeks and with a frown, he turned away from her. He didn’t understand, what was so funny?

“Look at it this way, baby: imagine you’re an average joe at the gym and some handsome -“

“You think I’m handsome?”

“Don’t change the subject. And some handsome man comes in and bench presses 600 pounds like its nothing. No rest days, no signs of exhaustion, he just does incredible shit then walks off like its another day ending in y. Of course people are getting suspicious, Logan. Do you seriously not realize how fucking insane that sounds?”

She was right. Having heard it said out loud really did put things into perspective. But then again, why did it fucking matter? Why did the humans care so much that he went back to the gym multiple times a day? Why did they care how heavy the weights were? Why was it so important that he constantly held himself back so the humans could have ease of mind? What about him and how he felt?

Althea slowly made her way over to him, placed a hand on his arm and guided him down so she could cup his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

She was silent for a moment, deep in thought “before Wade found you, what did you used to do when you felt like this? Because Wade told me that the X-mansion was the only place you ever stayed in for more than a month.”

Logan nodded “ran, hunted…” he sighed “I don’t know…”

As tender as could be, Althea patted his cheek “when was the last time you lived amongst people, not counting now, mind?”

“2000” he whispered.

“You mean you’ve been living like a nomad for -“

“24 years. After I….after I killed those humans..I couldn’t even get the time of day” Logan looked at the floor, feeling like a monster “so I stole a few essentials n’then lived off the land. Always moving. Always running…..I-”

“Logan, You’ve made a big transition. Going’ from one extreme to the other, no wonder you’re so antsy."

Logan frowned, what the fuck was he going to do?

“Don’t worry, Logan. We’ll figure something out, cus this shit an’t sustainable, for you or for us.”

————

“Where the fuck are we going?” Logan growled from the backseat of Dopinder’s car. His hands were over his ears and he swore that if he had to listen to Katy Perry’s Firework one more goddamn time, he was going to loose it.

With a wicked grin, Wade sing songed “its a seeeeeeeecret, my overly aggressive honey badger.”

Logan groaned and sighed “could you at least choose a different song?”

“I have many CD’s Mr.Howlett, what would you like to listen to?” As if on cue, Wade popped open the glove box and started rummaging through said collection.

“Hank Williams?”

“Literally who?” Deadpool and Dopinder asked at the same time.

“He’s….fuck, nevermind. The Doors?” Dopinder shook his head “Rolling Stones?”

“You have very old tastes, Mr.Howlett.”

Wade gave a loud ‘ha!’ And slapped his knee “like an old man! Hahaha, sorry Peanut. Seems all he’s got is pop, Hindi Geet, and - fuck yes! - the Frozen soundtrack. Put that shit in there, my guy!”

Logan placed his head in his hands and cringed as Wade sang along to ‘let it go’. He and Dopinder were off key and their voices sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Much to Logan’s chagrin, it took nearly the entire soundtrack before the trip finally ended.

“Here we are, DP” Dopinder stopped the car and turned to Wade with a smile.

Logan threw the door open and ran out, ignoring Dopinder’s cry’s of ‘please be careful with the car door!’

He took a few steps forward, turning his head left then right as he admired the view. There were trees as far as the eye could see and lush green grass blanketed the terrain. A pleasant breeze swayed through the tree’s. This was familiar. Pleasant. Safe.

He breathed in. The air was fresh, crisp and clean, so unlike the polluted air within the city.

Wade clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder and squeezed “ You’ve been kind of unbearable lately, peanut. So, Blind Al and I brainstormed and came up with this” he gave a wide sweep with his arm, gesturing to the area around them “now you can get all that excess energy out and calm the fuck down.”

On all fours, Logan ran. Feeling the wind in his hair and the view of nature around him, he sped up and allowed himself to finally let go and simply be. Behind him, Wade struggled to catch up, and eventually fell so far behind that he stopped running, sat down on the grass, and seemed content to just simply watch his beau run.

The smell of pine, grass and animals tickled his nose and caused him to grin. A weird noise that sounded like an in-between of a cluck and a chirp rose from his throat like a purr. This felt right. This felt wonderful!

Dopinder joined Wade on the grass and together they watched Logan run for a bit before engaging in conversation. They talked for a few minutes before their attention was stolen by a rabbit running past them at full speed followed by Logan who was chasing after it on all fours.

His pupils were blown and he was so focused on the rabbit that Wade doubted that he was at all aware of anything else around him.

They then watched with bile fascination as Logan pounced on the rabbit, snapped its neck and began to eat it. With one brutal bite, he bit into its skull and a disgusting crack rang out as he did so, causing Wade and Dopinder to cringe.

“DP….is he eating that?” Dopinder slapped a hand over his mouth and dry heaved.

“He sure is, Dopinder. He sure is.” Wade grimaced.

After the head was eaten, Logan turned toward the pair “want some?”

They both shook their head ‘no’ “uh, no, we’re good, peanut.”

Logan shrugged and went back to eating. He was laying on the grass and seemed to be completely blissed out, a far cry from the antsy behaviour that he had been displaying all week.

“Seeing you kill that rabbit made me realize something, Lolo. The reason you’ve been so jacked up is cus you got all this feral energy and no way to get it outta your system. So, how’s about you and I do merc jobs together? We could make some money and you could run around and kill things to your hearts content.”

“I don’t kill humans, Wade.” A small tug separated the rabbits back leg from its body.

“The people we’re killing aren’t humans, peanut.” Wade said ominously. A dark, scary look flashed across his face and he spoke in a soothing tone that sounded anything but “They’re trash. Pedophiles, rapists, human traffickers, abusers…when you kill one, you’re making the world a better place. Think of it as providing a service that the cops don’t have the nuts to do.”

Logan sat up and said tersely “s’a slippery slope, Wade. Kill a few bad humans, justify it to yourself n’say you’re doing the world a favour. Next thing you know, you’ve started killing innocents n’you keep killin’ till you wake up one day surrounded by the bodies of humans that did nothin’ wrong cept’ be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” The rabbits half eaten corpse lay forgotten. He leaned in close to Wade and ground out “I won’t be that monster again, Wade. I don’t. Kill. Humans.”

“Listen, Peanut” Wade place a hand on Logan’s arm “ If I ever see you stray; if I ever see you go after an innocent, I’ll stop you. You and me, peanut. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that” he shook his head, sad and uncertain.

“You’ll never be alone on these missions, Logan. I promise that if I see you attacking innocents, I’ll shoot you in the head, zero hesitation.”

Dopinder raised his hand “DP should I be present for this conversation? It feels illegal.”

“Absolutely fucking not, my guy.” He snapped his fingers and pointed in the direction of the car “Go back to the car, my beautiful Bollywood beauty and remember: you heard nothing!”

Logan remained silent for a long time. His gaze remained focused on the rabbits corpse. He could not, would not, have a repeat of those events twenty four years ago. He had finally found a home; finally found acceptance and a place where he could simply exist without having people curl their lip in disgust upon seeing his face.

An educated wish, a failure to act, would result in all of that crashing down. But loosing control wasn’t the only thing that worried him.

“What if something happens to Althea while we’re out?” He looked Wade in the eye, his voice tinged with anxiety “what if humans come to retaliate n’they kill her n’she dies alone n’scared? What if she calls for help n’we don’t make it back in time?”

“Oh peanut, she’ll be fine. She’s got a Sig P365 - no, don’t ask me where she keeps it - Princess Puppins, and a brick of cocaine. Throw one of those bad boys in a humans face and it’ll kill them near instantly. But - “ he cupped Logan’s face “if you’re really worried, we can get you a cellphone and put you as her emergency contact, ok?”

Logan leaned into his touch and placed his hands over Wade’s then squeezed with enough force to cause the latter to wince in pain “ok. But if she, or any other innocents get hurt, I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

Wade stood in front of the closed bathroom door. He raised a shaking hand to open it, but he just couldn’t make the final connection. The idea of taking a shower terrified him, but he knew it needed to be done.

It had been days since he last bathed himself, and with the current heatwave, the smell was so bad that Althea had left the apartment to stay at a hotel. So, here he was, a grown ass man nearly reduced to tears over a goddamn shower.

“Come on, Darlin’” Logan placed a strong hand on Wade’s back and helped him inside the washroom.

Since Logan moved in, the two of them developed some unspoken rules that never, under any circumstances, were to be broken. The first was never to pry into each other’s past - wait for the information to be freely given. The second was to respect each other’s triggers. And the third was to only ignore a no if avoiding the situation or trigger was causing harm to themselves or the people around them.

“I fucking can’t” Wade's voice shook as he forced the words out “not today.”

“You said that yesterday, Wade.” Logan said gently. He guided Wade over to sit on the edge of the tub then went about preparing the shower. Wade’s favourite body wash and my Melody bath puff were placed within easy reach.

Logan fetched Wade’s favourite body butter and towel, then turned to address the trembling man in a blunt tone “sooner we do this, the sooner its over.”

“You stink, too” Wade bit out none too kindly, hoping he could goad Logan into a fight.

“Sure do” Logan held out a hand and helped Wade stand “Ten minutes. No longer. I promise.”

Slowly, but surely, he helped Wade undress and then quickly undressed himself. Once they were both naked he eased Wade into the shower and positioned him facing away from the shower head. Wade stretched both arms out to steady himself against the showers wall.

With his hand on the knob, Logan softly said “gonna turn on the water.”

Logan positioned himself in front of the other man, blocking the majority of the water from hitting him before absolutely necessary. Wade was very thankful for this, but the sound alone and the trickle of water at his feet was enough to mentally send him right back to those terrible days with Francis.

Wade began to tremble and breathe heavily.

Picking up the My Melody bath puff, Logan squeezed a generous amount of the Sugar Fairy body wash onto it, recoiling from the sharp cotton candy smell. Ever so gently, he washed Wade’s back, arm’s, legs and bits, making sure to be as quick and methodical as he could.

Then, using that same disgusting cotton candy mess, he cleaned himself too. He hated seeing Wade like this and his protective and nurturing instincts kicked into overdrive. His only purpose, the only thing he cared about right this moment, was getting his mate through this. And if that meant covering himself in that god awful scent that his mate loved so much, then so be it.

“H-help….” Wade eked out, his mind trapping him in a cruel loop of his time in that airtight chamber. His legs shook and his eyes were wide and unfocused “can’t - can’t - I can’t breathe!”

Logan wrapped his hands around Wade’s soapy body and laid his head on Wade’s shoulder, letting out a soothing melodic coo to help calm him.

The shower’s white noise sounded just like the hiss of the oxygen being slowly sucked out of that chamber until only the bare minimum for his survival remained. Seeing glass where there was only wall, Wade banged his fists against it trying to break it “I can’t get - I can’t get out. I can’t get out!”

Logan covered Wade’s hands with his and manoeuvred them so they rested against the latter's chest, “Gonna wash you off, now. Almost done” Logan soothed. Wade squeezed his eyes shut and struggled against Logan’s grip. The sound of the water’s white noise and the feeling of its deluge upon his skin caused his panic to ramp up and soon he was gasping for air again and crying out for help.

A chirp cut through the horrible memory, much like the sun after a rainstorm. It was soothing and lovely. Despite his panic, Wade leaned into Logan’s touch and tried his very best not to bolt. Every time he felt himself falling back into that panic, Logan would chirp again and all would be well.

Finally, the water was turned off. The shower was done.

It took a long moment before Wade finally realized when and where he was. Dripping wet, and without saying a word, Wade stepped out of the shower. He walked toward the door and laid his hand upon it, making no effort to open it. Instead, he laid his head upon it with a soft thud and sank to the floor like dead weight.

Logically, Wade knew that he desperately needed the shower. But emotionally, he felt as if his wants had been completely disregarded and it pissed him off. The worst part of this whole mess was that his anger both was and wasn’t misplaced. Logan had been quick, efficient, and didn’t pry - which he greatly appreciated…sometimes. But he also felt that Logan could’ve been kinder and more patient about the whole situation, which in turn, made him feel like shit.

Althea had once told him that not everyone expresses love the same way. Logan, as Wade had observed, was very much an acts of service kinda guy with a little bit of quality time sprinkled in. Affirmations and lovey dovey shit just wasn’t something he did. But today, Logan had tried his best, and Wade knew that. It just..didn’t feel quite like it was enough.

She had also said that people weren’t mind readers and that you needed to speak up if you wanted something. With a shaky sigh, Wade covered his face with his hands.

Placing his hands on the tub’s edge, Logan bent forward then proceeded to vigorously shake himself dry. He knew first hand just how emotionally and physically exhausting intrusive memories could be, so he wasn’t going to pry.

Once he felt dry enough, Logan grabbed the container of body butter, grabbed Wade by the hand, guided him into the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the bed. Then he turned away and got changed.

Wade looked at the floor and fiddled with his hands “hey, Lolo, can I ask you something?”

“Of course” Logan paused and turned around to face Wade.

“You love me, right? I mean, I know you do, but if you could tell me more often, I’d really appreciate that.” Wade anxiously babbled. “Because sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who’s saying it and it makes me feel like shit.”

Logan was silent. He looked extremely confused and then said, “yes?” tilted his head to the side like a little dog, looked off to the right and narrowed his eyes “have I not been doing that?”

The longer he looked at Logan, the more Wade was reminded of the confused math lady meme.

“We nuzzled n’kissed, I’ve been submissive to you multiple fucking times, made you nests…” Logan turned back around, opened the drawer and set about choosing an outfit for Wade. He didn’t even sound mad, just very disappointed “left my scent in the apartment n’covered myself in yours” he sniffed himself and recoiled from the sickly sweet cotton candy scent that lingered, then took the shorts, underwear and shirt and dropped them on Wades lap “n’I’ve been providing for you n’Althea. Wade, I’ve been telling you I love you every day.”

Now it was Wade’s turn to feel like the confused math lady meme. Gosh, if he really focused, he could see the equations flying about in every direction “wait wait wait I have so many questions. First of all, what do you mean, leaving your scent? You haven’t been rubbing your balls all over the apartment Step Brothers style, have you?”

With a look of absolute disgust Logan ground out “I’m not a deviant, Wade. Don’t be foul! I rub up against the furniture, the walls, n’sometimes blankets or clothing.” He then said, as if stating the obvious “to mark our territory, Wade.”

Wade nodded in understanding. He unscrewed the lid to the body butter and started liberally applying it all over before getting dressed “and the nests?”

“Sleeping n’relaxation” He pinched the bridge of his nose, grunted, then let out a sensible chuckle “so that’s why you’ve been dismantling them. God, I’ve been so fuckin’ confused.”

“Althea and I were confused too, you know. You keep the place so clean, so we didn’t really understand why you kept leaving random piles of shit all over the couch and the bed.”

Logan did a double take then repeated very slowly, sounding hurt “random piles of shit?”

Wade scratched the back of his neck and looked at the floor. He sounded extremely frustrated “how the hell did we go from me asking you to say you love me more than once in a blue moon, to me comforting you…again? Look…I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings but right now, this isn’t about you. Its about what I need.”

Oh. Logan’s brow furrowed and he looked away and that mean little voice in his head whispered in his ear ’you’re such a selfish little parasite’ and its dark tendrils of self hatred grasped his heart in its hands and squeezed and he did what he always did when he got scared: Logan mentally ran away.

Wade bit out “no! You don’t get to do that!” He stood up, placed his hands on Logan’s arms and shook him a little “you don’t get to mentally walk away from this shit! I need to hear you tell me that you love me. I need affirmations and praise. I want you to tell me that I’m doing a good job, or that you’re proud of me. Because I’m doing the same for you and It really makes me feel like shit when you don’t do the same for me.”

’What a disappointment you are, you little blight. Wade deserves better’ that mean voice hissed. Logan couldn’t help but feel terrible - he truly didn’t mean to make Wade feel this way. Every act of service, every nest; where he thought he was showing love, Wade only saw mess. How had he never noticed?

What else hadn’t he noticed? Did Althea feel the same way as Wade? Did she also not know how much he loved and cared for her? God, why was he like this? Why was he so shit at this whole family thing?

Then his thoughts went back to the Honda Odyssey, as they tended to do when his self loathing ramped up, and those disgusting, hateful words, he said to Wade. God, he really was the worst.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Logan looked up to see Wade giving him a look of such profound disappointment. Before he could turn away and leave the room, Logan grabbed his arm and blurted out, looking as if he might actually cry “M’sorry m’ such a shitty boyfriend. M’sorry ‘m so angry all the time, n’ m’so fucking sorry for what I said to you in the odyssey.”

Wade opened his mouth to respond, but Logan wasn’t done.

“I love you! I love how you’re unapologetically yourself. I love that your spirit burns so bright n' I love hearing you talk. I love your optimism, Wade. You’re smart, n’skilled, n'so kind…the X-men n' the Avengers would be lucky to have you. M’so fucking lucky to have you.”

“You remembered…” Wade whispered in disbelief. That rant had been eating away at him bit by bit and sometimes he couldn’t help but fear that deep down inside, Logan still saw him as that half-wit loser. To know that not only was he wrong, but that Logan was just as torn up about it as he was, made him want to weep.

Logan let out a sad whine and rubbed his nose against Wade’s “every fucking day, Darlin’.” And Wade did the same. They stood together like that for a long moment before Logan took Wade by the hand and lead him over to his sleeping area. On the floor, next to Wade’s side of the bed, was a pile of blankets and pillows. They were stacked somewhat strategically to create a nest.

Logan looked away and fiddled with his hands “I know its…not much but if you wanted to, you could relax in my nest, n’ Pup’s in there too. If you need em’….” Wade did a double take. That was a huge fucking deal, no one was allowed to touch Pup. He remembered Logan’s earlier words about nests and realized that this was Logan’s way of trying to help him relax.

With a small, tired smile, Wade said “that actually sounds really nice. By the way, Sugar Fairy smells really great on you, Lolo.” then got on his hands and knees and crawled inside.

It was very dark inside of Logan’s nest. Wade ran his hands along the soft material - it was pretty shredded. He picked Pup up and cradled em' against his chest and found, that despite the mild feelings of claustrophobia it brought, it was surprisingly comfortable. He curled up and closed his eyes. Maybe Logan was onto something with this whole nesting thing.

Chapter Text

The moment Logan woke up, he knew it was going to be a very bad day.

Usually his healing factor, superhuman strength and stamina would take care of the extra added weight of the adamantium. However, sometimes his body simply couldn’t cope, thus resulting in what he had dubbed: heavy days. His Beast had said that it was a combination of his joints and ligaments being under too much strain and needing time to recover and his body stressed due to walking upright instead of his natural inclination of walking on all fours.

With a grunt Logan rolled over onto his side and, with immense effort, onto all fours. He walked out of his nest, very slowly, and very stiffly toward the dresser, and opened the bottom drawer. Then, with a sigh, he sat down and began the very arduous process of dressing himself.

The joints in his fingers were uncooperative and painful. Logan opted for a white a-shirt, boxers and dark green, lightweight, 3/4 men's capris - the combo he usually opted for when he was feeling either feral or extremely shitty. There was just something about having anything touching his ankles or feet that just set him off when he was like this. He supposed he could ask Beast for his opinion, but decided he’d rather chew off his arm than set foot in the X-mansion ever again.

Logan let out another grunt. Over the course of his 200+ years of living he heard people endlessly wax poetic about his healing factor and how ‘incredibly lucky he was to have such a gift’. Completely oblivious and naive to the psychological pain that lingered from being repeatedly brought back from death time and time again, the phantom pain from injuries long passed or the insane amount of calories one had to consume each day just to keep oneself functioning. Healing factors were, in short, a double edged sword and sometimes Logan truly hated it.

Even though he wanted nothing more than to rot in bed all day, he couldn’t. If he didn’t eat then he’d be worse off tomorrow. Fuck his entire goddamn life. From the same drawer, he took his communication cards and bit down on the carabiner, allowing the cards to dangle from his mouth.

Logan had found them on the living room table one day. Just sitting on the top as if they had been thrown onto the table’s surface like a pair of keys. Each card was hand drawn, coloured and detailed and had one single word per card. Under each word was its braille translation.

The words were: Overwhelmed, Tired, Hungry, Yes, No, Angry, Pain, Happy, Help and Unsure.

Wade had explained that while she understood, Althea found his non verbal days to be quite difficult as being unable to see and hear someone, especially a person she had grown to care for, left her feeling anxious.

“Communication cards” Wade clarified “Althea and I made them so you could communicate with us when you go nonverbal. The carabiner is so you can carry them with you on your belt loop and don’t have to worry about holding onto them.”

Logan flipped through the cards, admiring the work that went into them.

As he did so, Wade continued to speak “I noticed that when you get kinda, uh, feral, or when you’re feeling super shitty you…” he struggled to find the right words, wanting to put it as delicately as possible “kinda dissociate so I thought that it’d be easier if things were simplified. One word, one picture. You can hold the card up to communicate with me and with Althea, just tap the card so she can find it. Easy peasy.

Behind the facade of jokes and feigned stupidity Wade Wilson hid a very observant and intelligent mind. He had this habit of learning all he could about someone just by quickly interacting with them. This could either be a godsend or a nightmare depending on who they were and his relationship with them. And it was this observant mind that Logan was banking on because he didn’t even have the energy to talk, let alone explain what was wrong or what he needed. Hell, he barely had the energy to keep his head up. At least the ground was very interesting, he supposed.

The sound of a plate being placed in the drying rack and the squeak squeak of a cup being washed. With a groan, Logan sat on his haunches and placed his head in his hand. Made it halfway to the living room and his body felt like he had run a marathon. Beast’s words echoed in his mind like unwanted NPC dialogue ’your ligaments are under an intense amount of strain everyday, Logan. Your bones add an additional 105 pounds to your overall weight, and usually your super strength, stamina and healing factor can compensate for that, but everything has its limits. I beg of you, Logan, listen to your body. Rest and allow it to heal!’

Logan cringed as he remembered replying none too kindly that life went on and he didn’t have the luxury of lying around like a useless lump while everyone else busted their asses. He had never seen Beast look so disappointed and worried.

Wade turned his head and paused in his washing. With keen eyes, his gaze swept over Logan’s pitiful form - hunched over and bereft of energy. With a hum, Wade resumed his cleaning. He made sure to be loud enough so Althea could hear “Do you care what I put in the mystery smoothie or do you not give a shit?”

He stopped once more, glass in hand, and glanced in Logan’s direction just in time to see a shrug “don’t care? I can work with that.”

Logan slowly, but surely, made his way toward the living room.

Wade finished up his washing and reached into the cupboard. He loaded a generous amount of heavy cream, hemp hearts, a few cubes of frozen, pre-cut fish, cinnamon, honey, blueberries, and extra plain greek yogurt into the magic bullet and blended it together.

Trying not to gag, Wade paced the disgusting lumpy mixture into Logan’s no spill cup. The cup was clear, had one large handle, a thick straw and a secure, no spill, top. It was covered in Applejack stickers.

When Logan had laid eyes on it for the first time he had thought it was a joke.

“Lolo listen, I know it looks stupid but it’ll help! You don’t even need to grab it, you can just do this” Wade slid his hand into the cup’s wide handle and then let it hang. “Pretty awesome, right?”

Then, feeling embarrassed, he got mad.

“I - I am not a fucking toddler!” Logan let out a low growl. His brow furrowed and the longer he stared at it, the angrier he became.

Wade said nothing. Logan watched as he simply filled the cup up with water, turned toward him then dropped it - maintaining eye contact as he did so. It hit the floor. Nothing spilled, nothing broke, and Wade gestured to It as if to say ‘see?’.

The X-men never were this thoughtful or observant when it came to his needs. A part of him was terribly grateful for this chance to keep some independence when he was incapacitated during his heavy days, but the other half was just so furious at the fact that he even needed it in the first place. God, compared to the other Wolverines he really was the worst.

From her place at the dining room table, Althea spoke. She was reading a book, her fingers rapidly making their way across the page “you know, Logan, Wade’s got a point. Needing a drinking aid doesn’t make you a child, just means you need a little help. Nothing wrong with that.”

“That one’s going right in the memory banks” Wade whispered to himself, giddy as could be “I’ve got a point. Hehe.”

It had taken Wade all of two months to figure out what the X-men couldn’t in the two years he had spent with him. Logan swallowed thickly and tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. But that mean voice inside his head was quick to remind him that ‘it wasn’t their fault that you’re a faulty shield.’

“Didn’t need it then, n’I don’t need it now…”

“Then what did you do when you were with the X-men?” Wade gently probed. His brow furrowed and concern laced his voice.

“Figured it out, like I always do” Logan replied, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

The yellow and blue suit, the aggressive and reckless fighting style, the complete disregard for his health…Wade’s eyes went wide as all the pieces finally fell into place. If the X-men of Logan’s world weren’t already dead he’d fucking kill them himself.

“Listen, Lolo, I know those X-fucks tried to drill it into your head that you always gotta be useful, but you don’t! Its ok to feel like shit and let yourself rest.” Wade said, desperately trying to make Logan understand.

“It wasn’t their fault that I’m defective!” roared Logan. He stood there, breathing heavily, his sharp canines exposed and a single tear ran down his cheek.

Althea slammed her hand down on the table with a loud bang, causing an oppressive silence to fall over the room and both men to jump “How fucking DARE you say something so foul! Don’t you ever say that shit in this house, not now, not ever! Do you understand?”

Logan turned his head in Althea’s direction. His eyes went wide and his heart dropped into his stomach. He had never seen Althea so furious. He looked back at Wade and saw him looking just as shocked.

The humans from his world had the same look. The anger and venom in their voices, calling him terrible things and wishing him ill. Logan’s hands grabbed the fabric of his shirt in an iron grip, fear taking hold. It was happening again. He had something good and he had gotten angry and fucked it all up.

Althea slowly made her way over, her cane going back and forth and the moment it hit his foot, she stopped and, as hard as she could, thwacked both of his ankles with it to drive her point home “My blindness doesn’t make me defective. Wade’s dyslexia doesn’t make him defective.” She stopped and poked him in the chest “your joint pain doesn’t make you defective! A persons value isn’t fucking tied to the things they can do for other people!”

Logan tried to stop the tears, but the pain was just too great. 24 years of being treated like a mindless, violent, diseased ridden, animal; of being othered, isolated and treated like a shield….it had taken its toll. And with those simple words, the floodgates had opened, and all of the mental anguish had hit him at once. Logan sank to the floor and sobbed.

Althea muttered “about fucking time.”

“How ya feeling, baby?” Althea moved her cane to the side and patted the couch cushion next to her. Logan got on his haunches and heaved himself up with great effort, his joints cracking as he did so. With a groan, he laid down on his stomach and opened his mouth, laying the cards down. Logan splayed the cards out and tapped on the card that said ’pain’ with a shaky finger.

She placed both hands on the card and moved them from left to right along each line. She let out a hum “I’m sorry, baby.” Logan let out a soft cluck and a coo as Althea scratched right behind his ears and ran her fingers through his hair.

With the food finished, Wade placed the no spill cup on the end table and turned his attention to his next task of setting up the heated pad. Long, and a boring light grey, the item in question proved to be indispensable to the men as both suffered from chronic pain and relied on it to make their bad days just a little more bearable.

Wade rolled it out in front of the TV, just far enough away from the couch as to not be in Althea’s way. He plugged it in and gave it a few spritz with some cinnamon essential oils, then covered the pad with his favourite Pinkie Pie blanket, a super fluffy pillow and placed a folded thick green blanket beside it.

He walked over to the couch and leaned down to address Logan who looked like a miserable sack of shit “so, Lolo, do you want to try getting down on your own, or do you want me to carry you?”

Wade was expecting some kind of resistance, a low growl, or even a glare, but to his surprise, Logan simply tapped the card that said ’help’ and grunted.

With a nod, Wade scooped him up like a cat and swiftly sauntered over to the pad. Gentle as could be, he laid Logan down on his stomach and laid the thick blanket over him, trapping him in a cocoon of cinnamon warmth. A satisfied chirp escaped Logan as the heat soothed his aching joints, Wade’s scent enveloped him and the impossibly soft pillow cradled his head.

Kneeling down, Wade said with an exaggerated English accent “your disgusting slop, sir”, placed the cup next to Logan’s head, and splayed the communication cards next to it within easy reach, then gently took Logan’s left hand in his and cringed “Yikes. Yeah, those joints are completely fucked. I’ll go roll you a joint. Hey Al, you want some?”

Two years ago, a group of mutants had developed their own strains of cannabis specifically tailored to mutants. It was an untapped market and proved to be extremely financially successful. One strain in particular, This Is Fine or: TIF, was especially popular among those with chronic pain for its smooth flavour and soothing properties.

“Depends. Which one?”

“TIF.”

“Awww hell no, keep that shit away from me! Last time I smoked that shit, it got me all fucked up and not in a good way.” She flipped Wade the finger as he walked off with a laugh.

With a clumsy slap, Logan knocked the cup over. His nose twitched and he sniffed, it smelled so good. Logan truly loved the plastic monstrosity, it allowed him to stay mostly laying down and eat without spilling. Logan slowly sucked on the thick straw and let out a satisfied moan as the chunky liquid hit his tongue.

Wade eventually returned, laid down on his stomach and was holding the fattest blunt Logan had ever seen between his fingers. Logan stopped eating, licked his lips and tilted his head to the side - he didn’t recognize the smell of that strain.

“This is TIF - ‘this is fine’. It’ll Baja blast the ever loving shit outta your brain, Peanut. No more pain.” Wade lit it and held the joint out to him. Logan took a long inhale, Wade did the same. They took turns passing the blunt back and forth. Logan laid his head back down and let out a long exhale, the smoke coming out of his mouth like tendrils.

The one downside to mutant strains was they tended to hit very hard and very fast. And this was especially true for Mutates - mutant like people who’s recessive X-Gene was activated through external means or stimuli - who were much more prone to its effects and were hit that much harder.

Logan looked up just in time to see Wade roll onto his back, splayed like a starfish. He said nothing and simply stared at the ceiling - the very epitome of calm - and entranced with whatever strange shit he was seeing. It had taken a little under two minutes for him to get zonked.

Wade reached out and patted Logan on the head, he said, his voice heavy like molasses “Sure you don’t…………want any, Al?”

Mary hopped up on the couch with her stubby little legs and curled up on Althea’s lap. Althea stroked her wrinkly head and said “got a question for you, dumbass.”

It took a long time for the words to reach Wade. He tilted his head back to look at her, seemingly entranced by his upside down view of Althea and Puppins “…..yah?”

“Who’s gonna take care of Logan, me? I’m blind you irresponsible bitch” Puppins gave a huffing snort and stood up on her hind legs to lick at Althea’s face.

“……So mean to me” Wade whispered, his voice sounding like it was being carried away by the wind. He rolled onto his stomach and crawled back over to where Logan lay, then turned and gripped his mutton chops. Wade looked mesmerized by the simple, gentle pulling motion and then said “I’ll…………………do it.”

“You can barely string a sentence together!” She threw her hands up in exasperation “fuck sake!”

Logan’s half lidded gaze slowly swept the room. Everything was taking on a fuzzy and unfocused perspective, and slowly, but surely, the pain faded along with the thoughts in his head and his feral mindset steadily moved to the forefront.

Hands splayed and with small, slow, movements, Logan began to make digging motions. His claws just poking through as he did so. A series of happy chirps filled the air as his feral mind kept him in a slight dream state where he was stuck in a very pleasant digging loop.

Wade let go of Logan’s mutton chops and laid back down on his back, then reached up and patted Logan’s cheeks. Seeing things upside down was so very exciting.

Whatever was happening, it certainly sounded cute. Althea got her phone out and used the voice assist to open up the camera app. She aimed her phone in what she assumed was the direction her boys were in and stopped, then muttered to herself “what’s the point?”

Puppins let out a sad whine.

Althea began to feel left out and very left behind. She could hear Logan’s happy chirps and the slow, gentle scraping of fingers on the floor and Wade’s ooh’s and ah’s at whatever he was seeing. Being blind could be so isolating and right now, Althea couldn’t help but feel like she was completely and utterly alone.

Sometimes, she felt jealous of Logan. The healing factor, the fact that he was so spry despite being centuries old, but worst of all, she was jealous that he was taking Wade’s attention away from her. She longed for the days when Wade would sit beside her on the couch and talk her ear off. Now, it seemed like he only had time for Logan. ‘I’m right here' she desperately wanted to say.

Althea continued to stroke Mary’s wrinkly back, and frowned. She felt so wicked. She felt so ashamed. The phone was tossed aside, bounced off the couch’s armrest and hit the floor with a clatter.

Rolling toward the phone, Wade grabbed it with a clumsy hand and then observed Althea for a long moment. She looked so sad. He looked at the phone and noticed the camera app was open and his sluggish brain placed the pieces together

Wade got to his feet with one smooth motion, took the throw pillows from the couch and the recliner and stacked them on Logan’s left side, making a sort of comfortable sitting area for Althea. The latter of whom cried out in surprise as Wade enveloped her in a tight hug and lifted her up like she weighed nothing “What the fuck?! Put me down!”

Wade eased her down onto the pile of pillows. She sat with her right side leaning against Logan’s blanketed body and a throw was clumsily wrapped around her shoulders “motherfucker! Why did you do that?” Puppins hopped off the couch and curled up in Althea’s lap once more.

Wade booped her on the nose, walked over to Logan’s right side and sat down, slumped over like a shrimp “Ohana…means family and family…..means no one…gets left behind, right…Lolo?” Logan let out a soothing coo and stopped his digging. His nose twitched and he lifted his head from the pillow, searching for his no spill cup.

Wade leaned over and rolled it back toward Logan and smiled as he watched him gently chew on the straw before resuming his eating. Althea sat in silence for a moment, then laid a hand on Logan’s back and asked Wade “how much did I -?”

“Nothing……didn’t have…to. Face said…it all…” Wade draped himself over Logan’s back like a sloth and murmured “such a….toasty roasty….wolvie.”

Althea leaned her head against Logan's side, gave a small smile and sighed.

Chapter Text

Wade stood in a pool of blood, bodies all around him. Arms outstretched, and katana’s in hand he inhaled deeply as if taking in the most crisp mountain air. With a loud exhale he said “god, I love the smell of dead pedophiles in the morning” then looked down at the bodies at his feet and kicked one as hard as he could, delighting in the wet snap of the corpse’s neck as he did so.

He was a tad choosy when it came to his merc jobs, but anything involving pedo’s and child abusers was an automatic yes. Every single one he brought down with his sword made his heart skip a beat and a massive smile to make its way across his face. Because every time he killed a pedophile, it was like he was killing his father and scoutmaster Kevin over, and over and over again. After all, who needs therapy when you can just kill monsters for a living?

Wade skipped through the blood and corpses like a child frolicking through a field of flowers. He felt euphoric, he felt……oh. Wade’s jubilant mood waned as he caught sight of his beau and the absolute carnage that had been left in Logan’s wake.

On all fours, and surrounded by mutilated corpses, was Logan. A man's arm was in his mouth, and he was dragging the rest of the body behind him as if it were fresh prey. Loud snarls echoed throughout the warehouse and blank eyes stared ahead. Looking down, Wade noticed claw marks bisecting the corpses and deep bite marks on what was left of their torn out throats.

It wasn’t as if Wade cared what happened to these scum that were masquerading as human, he really didn’t, but this level of cruelty and violence was so unlike his Wolverine. Logan never drew out the suffering of others, he never relished in wonton cruelty - especially when it came to humans.

Wade observed for a few moments longer. That look of pure rage and sadness, the blank eyes…. with an exhausted sigh Wade muttered “Weapon X.” Not good.

Logan’s feral mind had two distinct selves. There was Logan’s default feral self, the one that took over sometimes due to his mutation, or appeared when he was in an environment that he felt safe in or with someone he felt safe with. It was the protector. It was kindness, vulnerability and trust.

And then there was Weapon X. Weapon X was all of Logan’s misery, pain, fear, trauma and anger. It was a weapon. It was cruel. It was unrelenting, and it was extremely dangerous. The appearance of Weapon X meant that something had triggered Logan, and whatever it was must’ve been very, very bad. One question then remained: what was the trigger?

Unable to tear his gaze away Wade watched as, with a sickening crunch, Weapon X clamped down on the arm and bit through it, causing the nearly dead man to cry out in pain with what little energy he had left.

That small cry of pain caused Weapon X’s instincts to go into overdrive. He dropped the arm and turned, then pounced on the man with all 300 pounds of his weight, shattering ribs and knocking out what precious air remained in the man’s ravaged lungs before ripping out his throat with a snarl.

Weapon X spat the man's flesh onto the ground then extended his left leg back and shook it as if something was stuck on his foot, then he did the same to his right. When whatever he was trying to get off wouldn’t budge he threw his head back, let out a terrifying roar, then resumed roaming.

It was like watching the worlds most fucked up game of hide and seek. Weapon X slowly moved, nose to the ground as he went, sussing out any survivors. The warehouse they were in wasn’t very large. It had two levels, one set of stairs and shitty lighting. Two old mattresses rested in the corner alongside a large dog cage and some camera equipment.

One thing Wade had learned, after working with Logan on their first few missions, was that he wielded his incredible sense of smell like a weapon. When Logan wanted to track someone down, they were as good as dead. Didn’t matter where they hid, or how careful they thought they were being, or how far they ran, Logan would always find his prey.

“Nononono p-pl-please!” The man hidden under the stairs cried, but it was futile. Weapon X dragged him out by his leg and shook his head back and forth, maiming the leg beyond repair. Then, like with the other man, he bit through the appendage, dropped it, broke ribs and then ripped out his throat.

“Jesus fucking christ!” Wade blurted out.

And then, much to Wade’s horror, Weapon X’s attention turned toward him.

Wade had re-designed Logan’s entire costume and hand sewed it himself. It had taken weeks of labour and many sleepless nights but the end result was nothing short of amazing. The design was inspired by the John Byrne suit, but with some minor changes. The yellow remained the same but the brown was switched with black and the belt was blue instead of red.

His boots and gloves, however, had been given a massive redesign. A few well placed lines on the toe cap area gave the illusion of paws and the sole’s were given a wolverine paw pad design, so he’d leave wolverine tracks everywhere he went.

When fighting, Wade observed that Logan tended to propel himself forward on all fours by extending his claws into the ground, pushing forward, then retracting them all within the span of a few seconds. To help circumvent that, Wade had added toe beans to the palm and fingers of his gloves. The beans were grippy and allowed him to propel himself forward without using his claws, thus saving precious seconds and energy.

It made Wade’s heart skip a beat when he had presented Logan with his new costume and the latter had given him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life, along with the most heartfelt thank you he had ever heard. He felt like a million bucks and was riding that high for weeks.

Weapon X walked through the puddles of blood on all fours, slowly advancing toward him, and leaving bloody tracks in his wake. Wade was struck with a profound sense of confusion. Weapon X was looking at him like the pedo’s, as if he were prey. But why? Logan knew him. He knew he was safe.

But did he? Wade sheathed his katana’s, deciding that he’d appear as less of a threat with them put away, and was taken aback by the disgusting stench that wafted from his costume. He smelled horrendous.

Wade’s suit was covered in blood and viscera, none of it his own. It was the one major downside of his suit. The bad guys couldn’t see him bleed, but he couldn’t see the bad guys blood on himself either. Christ, he smelled pungent, bloody and…..oh no.

Weapon X’s nose twitched and his lips were pulled back, exposing his sharp canines. He let out a deep rumbling snarl and walked ever closer.

Careful not to make any sudden moves, Wade knelt down, removed his gloves, pulled his mask up halfway, then held out a hand. He made sure to stay absolutely still knowing that one wrong move could set Weapon X off.

Weapon X’s nose twitched as he slowly sniffed Wade’s hand, then moved ever closer - cautious and sniffing up the entirety of Wade’s arm as he did so.

The growling subsided and a spark of recognition finally appeared in Logan’s eyes. With Weapon X finally gone, Wade took Logan’s face in his hands, removed the cowl and scratched Logan’s mutton chops with a relieved smile.

He patted Logan’s head like one would a child and then said “what has you so upset, Lolo? Can you show me?”

Wade had to quicken his pace to keep up with Logan, as the latter had his hand in a light grasp between his teeth, lest he end up being dragged behind like a rag doll. Wade’s eyes narrowed. He could see something small and still in the distance but couldn’t quite make out what it was.

As they moved closer, the shape became more clear. It was small, curled up, and was laying still. A dog? no.

Oh.

A child.

Logan let go of Wade’s hand and nudged the body with his nose, trying to make the boy wake. A pained keen rose from his throat and he looked at Wade as if to say ‘help the pup.’

A single glance at the body told Wade all he needed to know. Too big clothes on a horrifically small body, the barely visible streaks of blood on the inside of the thighs, the kid was dead long before they got there. Just didn’t know it yet. Wade removed his mask and held it close. He anxiously played with the material as memories long ago made their way to the forefront.

A party. Grown men passing his small body between themselves. His father counting money, a smile on his face. A scream. So much blood. One man too big. One boy too small. Pain. Tears. Pain. Pain. Pain. It was the first and last time his dad looked at him as a son instead of a paycheck.

With a shaky sigh, Wade knelt down beside Logan and rubbed his back “Too late Peanut, I’m sorry.”

Logan stared at him for a moment, then went back to nudging the corpse. Wade knew that in his feral mindset Logan understood death, but in this instance it was as if he truly couldn’t comprehend that the child was dead. Or perhaps, he didn’t want to.

The confusion was understandable, the child had seemed fine when they got there. He was walking around, talking, seemed alert and then just dropped dead. But Wade knew that if they had, had the time to look at him for more than a second, they would’ve realized that the walking was confused wandering, the talking was gibberish and the child was so far gone that any semblance of alertness was just the body on autopilot doing one last hurrah before it ran out of juice.

Wade pointed to his abdomen, hoping Logan would understand “He was hurt inside, there wasn’t anything we could’ve done.” He paused, hoping the words would sink in “he’s dead, Logan.”

With a roar, Logan knocked Wade to the ground. Crouched and bit his neck, then laid down on top of him and licked at the wound, making a sad sound as he did so. It was nothing more than a light nip, but the message was clear.

Wade’s voice shook and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out unwanted memories “you’re mad at me. But it’s not my fault…it’s not. I didn’t lie.”

He felt a rough tongue licking the tip of his nose, then his cheek. He pushed his face into Wade’s neck and let out a melodic coo. Wade wrapped his arms around Logan and squeezed, as if to ground himself.

They stayed like this for several minutes.

“Lolo, off.” Wade whispered, still feeling like dog shit but well enough to function. Logan got off and began to pace, never wandering too far away from Wade’s side. Every so often he’d shake his body as he usually tended to do after a shower, then resumed his pacing.

Wade’s eyes narrowed as he observed this strange behaviour. He called Dopinder for a pick up, then watched Logan for a moment longer before corralling him outside. While they waited, Logan once again shook his body then paced. Rinse and repeat.

Every minute that passed felt like an eternity. Wade allowed his mind to wander. He just wanted to go home, get into bed, and go to sleep.

“DP!”

Oh thank christ.

Dopinder waved from the driver's side, and patiently waited for Wade and Logan to get in.

Logan extended his leg back and shook it. Wade finally understood the actions for what they were: overstimulation. Wade pinched the bridge of his nose. Just what he needed, an overstimulated Lolo.

Unlike his ‘human’ self, feral Logan was much less shy about certain things. One of these said things was nudity, as his feral self sometimes got into moods where even a single article of clothing would horrifically overstimulate him. An overstimulated feral Logan was also a very naughty and difficult to control Logan. It was like trying to wrangle a fucking cat.

Wade opened the car door and pointed to the backseat “get in the car.”

Refusing to budge, Logan sat on his haunches and looked away.

“I know you’re overstimulated and want the suit off, but that’s not an option right now. Get in the car.”

Logan ignored him and started gnawing on his gloves.

“Get in the fucking car!” Logan’s brows furrowed and he hopped into the backseat. Wade forced him into a proper sitting position and buckled him in. He growled at Wade, who simply stuck him with an unimpressed look and bit out a harsh “behave!”

Feeling like shit, Wade got into the front seat, barked out “home” and stayed silent the rest of the ride. Thankfully, Dopinder didn’t pry and Wade used the precious time to calm himself down a little, knowing that once he got Logan home, the real battle would begin and he’d need all the patience he could possibly spare.

—-

By the grace of god, or some other higher power, Wade had managed to corral Logan out of the car and into the apartment without much fuss. With a grunt, he picked Logan up like a cat, got him into the bedroom and locked the door.

Inside was a queen sized bed, covered in knitted blankets and green Ikea bedding. Closest to the door was Althea’s side, her purple bonnet neatly folded and placed on her pillow. Her medications were labeled in brail and lined up on the nightstand. Wade’s side was closest to the wall and covered in so much plushies, that they would frequently fall off the bed and onto the floor. Next to him, and sandwiched between the wall and the bed, was Logan’s nest.

Books in Japanese, Spanish, Farsi, Korean and English were neatly organized in the bedroom bookcase. All second hand and all very well read. Books were one of the only luxuries that Logan ever afforded himself as he preferred to either spend the money on Althea and Wade, or place most of it in savings. Even then, those precious few luxuries were never ever brand new. Wade didn’t really understand why everything had to be second hand until he had caught Logan sniffing one of his ‘new’ books and giving it a sad, wistful, smile.

”Everythin’s got a story, Red. Ya just gotta listen.” Logan placed the new book in Wade’s hands. It was in Korean, and so old that it’s spine was well cracked and the pages were loose and close to falling out. Logan guided Wade’s hands over said pages and inhaled “S’been in so many hands, n’been enjoyed by so many people…s’like s’got a story all s’own.”

Like with everything he owned, Logan treated the books very well. Which is why Wade loathed dressing Logan while he was in this overstimulated, feral, state. It always got rough, and it always resulted in something or someone getting damaged. Wade wasn’t going to let Logan’s feral self destroy something he cherished so deeply.

A very unhappy Logan was in the corner, on his back and trying to bite at his boots. Wade walked over with a sigh and took them off, then carefully removed everything, the task made slightly easier by Logan who had figured out what he was doing and promptly stopped his struggling

Once naked, Logan calmed a little.

Wade closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and let out a long exhale, readying himself. He opened up the bottom dresser drawer and got out a pair of underwear and pants. He briefly considered just giving up and allowing Logan to run around naked, but knew that Logan would murder him if he ever allowed him to saunter around like that with Althea in the house. Something about manners and being respectful. Ugh, what a pain in the ass.

With Wade distracted, Logan made a mad dash for the bedroom door on all fours. Sneaky little shit.

“Oh no you fucking don’t!” Underwear in hand, Wade tackled Logan to the ground and they hit the floor with a loud bang. Face down, Logan writhed and snarled under Wade who was trying to unsuccessfully get the underwear on him.

“You said that just because Al’s blind, doesn’t mean we -“ he grunted “get to walk around with our dicks out. Fucking disrespectful, you said!” Wade panted, and Logan snarled “so, stop fucking struggling!”

Logan howled, managed to turn himself over, and kicked Wade with just enough force to get him off. Wade was knocked back and hit the bookcase with an oof. It shook, and several books fell. The biggest and most valuable in Logan’s collection hit him right on the head and then fell to the floor. Wade loudly swore then picked it up and examined it.

It was a Japanese language copy of Heike Monogatari. Logan was an avid reader, but this book in particular, above all others, seemed to be his absolute favourite. Wade carefully opened it and frowned when he was greeted by dried tear stains that littered the first few pages. Wade didn’t know why Logan was so attached to this particular story, but he had a hunch that it had something to do with the name Logan sometimes called out in his dreams: Mariko.

Thankfully none of the books had been damaged, nevertheless Wade had, had enough. He stood, fists clenched, stomped his foot and screamed “STOP!”

The effect was immediate. Logan let out a pitiful whine and got onto his back, exposing his stomach in an act of submission. Doing that always made Wade feel like shit, but it had to be done.

His tone sharp, Wade muttered to himself as he dressed Logan “can’t do shit the easy way noooooooooo gotta make things tough cus fuck me, right?”

Wade stood back up when he was done and started to change out of his suit. He kept one eye on Logan, the latter of whom was no longer on his back, but instead had curled up on the floor. Once finished, Wade set about putting the books back, and a very remorseful Logan padded up and licked at his hand. Still cross, Wade ignored him.

Logan made a sad sound and his nose twitched. He made a curious chirping sound when he spotted the copy of Heike Monogatari laying on the floor. He pawed at the book, as if trying to open it.

Wade sighed again, for the umpteenth time that day, and said, with a slight smile “Ok. Fuck, fine. Go get Pup.”

Logan let out an enthused chirp and ran to his nest.

It was when he was laying on the bed, the brick of a book resting on his chest, and waiting for Logan, that Wade realized that his memories had finally gone blissfully silent. He supposed that as much of a pain in the ass as Lolo was being, caring for him was a welcome distraction.

Logan hopped up on the bed, carrying pup by the scruff. On all fours, he walked in a quick circle then curled up with his head on Wade’s lap, gently letting Pup rest near his head. Wade opened the book and read out loud.

“The sound of the bell of Gionshoja echoes the impermanence of all things. The hue of the flowers of the teak tree declares that they who flourish must be brought low. Yea, the proud ones are but for a moment, like an evening dream in springtime. The mighty are destroyed at the last, they are but as the dust before the wind.”

Chapter Text

For as long as Logan could remember, he has always had a handler.

The first was his superior officers, strict but reasonable. They watched over him, trained him, fed and clothed him. They told him where to shoot and who to kill. They called him Lucky James.

Sweat dripped down Logan’s face. The claws that were peaking out from between his knuckles retracted and he let out a quiet whimper.

The second was Victor. Together they fought, in war after war, and gradually he took the leash, pulling the collar tighter. Victor was cruel. With a heavy hand and harsh words he was always there to remind Logan of his place. Victor called him Useless Runt.

”Listen here, you useless runt” Victor snarled.

Like all feral feline subspecies, Victor Creed was a very tall, intimidating man. He had long, thick, messy, blond hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, a long torso and large sharp canines that poked out from his upper lip. His nails were sharp and caked in dirt.

He wrapped his hand around Logan’s neck, lifted him up, slammed him against the wall and squeezed. Logan’s healing factor kept him in a state of near suffocation, which seemed to bring Victor satisfaction as he watched Logan squirm under his grip, feet desperately trying to find purchase on the walls smooth surface.

He leaned in close with a snarl, his breath ghosting Logan’s cheek, with his other hand he grabbed Logan’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes “listen close, you retarded weasel, when I tell you to do something, YOU FUCKING DO IT!” Logan let out a pained whimper, the scream magnified tenfold by his sensitive hearing. With a look of absolute disgust, Victor dropped Logan to the floor then pinned him down with his superior strength looking very much like a sabertooth tiger pinning it’s prey.

With one hand, Victor took Logan’s second ID tag - the one that read ‘Wolverine’ - and held it up for Logan to see, shaking it a little for emphasis “Took you under my paw. Trained you. Educated you on what it means to be a feral.” He hissed, yowled and bared his teeth “gave you a name - freed you from the slave name the humans gave you - and what do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO?! YOU SPIT IN MY FUCKING FACE!”

Victor let go of the tag, then wrapped both hands around Logan’s throat, squeezing as hard as he could. Logan didn’t fight back, he knew better than that. Fighting back only prolonged the pain. Being compliant at least guaranteed that his death would be quick.

It was only when he heard a snap, and Logan’s body went completely limp, that he finally let go. Breathing heavily, Victor waited a few moments for Logan’s healing factor to kick in enough to restore his hearing, before saying “you’re fucking pathetic, you know that? Nothing more than a goddamn sissy.”

Logan felt Victor getting off of his body, and then heard the door slam shut. His broken neck fixes itself, and the purple bruises that mar his throat heal, but the pain lingers. It always does.

With a gasp, Logan’s eyes snapped open.

The small, cramped, space within his nest brought no comfort. Sweat dripping down his face he let out a shaky exhale, took Pup by the scruff and crawled out of his nest. On all fours he nimbly trotted over to the door and took hold of the door handle, turning it slowly as to minimize the noise it would make when unlocking and then bolted out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.

Once outside Logan let out a shaky breath and with his back pressed against the door, squeezed his eyes shut, bit his lip and lowered himself to the floor. Knees to his chest he held pup tight and hid his face in its fake fur. He sat like this for several minutes, rocking back and forth.

He needed a drink. Anything would do.

Legs trembling and uncertain, Logan made his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. The case of Heineken Silver beckoned him, and for a long moment he considered grabbing the entire case, but stopped just as his shaking fingers brushed against it.

”Promise me, Logan” Althea said, her tone brooked no room for argument. She took his hands in hers and squeezed “no more hard liquor. No more binge drinking. No more drinking when your head’s all fucked up. Don’t shut us out Logan, we’re here for you. Do you promise, Baby?”

Logan was silent for a long moment. He looked at Althea and then at Wade and said “I promise.”

He decided on a snack instead.

Althea would be so proud.

Logan was an extremely no nonsense and proactive man. Most of his meals and snacks were pre prepared and stored in various containers and reusable ziplock bags. Snacks were always a mix of yogurt, some type of fruit and a raw meat. He alternated between honey, cinnamon or chia seeds as a topping and sometimes he’d use all three.

Logan grabbed some pre cut apple slices covered in skyr yogurt, honey, hemp hearts, raisins and cubes of raw meat, then shut the door with a grunt. He sat on the living room couch, pup beside him and absentmindedly ate, using his trembling hand to scoop out the messy snack, feeling somewhat outside himself as he did so.

Weapon X then took the leash and tightened the collar until he could barely breathe. They hurt him, experimented on him, owned him and violated him. He was no longer James Logan Howlett the man. He was a mere experiment, mindless and alone. To them, he was Experiment X then he became Weapon X.

With a sknit he extended a claw and skewered an apple slice.

“Remember, Logan. We don’t eat with our claws, or our hands. We use cutlery. Let’s try again” Charles lightly scolded.

Then the leash passed to Charles Xavier. His touch was gentle and he was so patient. He took the feral thing that was Logan, domesticated him and taught him how to properly behave. He showered Logan with love and showed him that he was more than just a mindless animal. He was Logan and he was a person.

But sometimes Charles would pull the leash, just ever so slightly, and tighten the collar whenever Logan forgot himself and became too feral or strayed too far from his path; ate improperly or too much. Never tight enough to hurt - but tight enough to remind him that he was a shield and his rightful place was at the X-men’s side, protecting them from harm.

On occasion, some of the X-Men would pull the leash too. Jean and Scott would sometimes make quips about his eating habits or the strange sounds he’d make. He knew they weren’t being purposely cruel. It’s just…how they were. Regardless, it made him feel like shit.

But he couldn’t tell them that. So he pushed down his feelings and let them fester.

Logan stared at his food covered hand for a long moment, then began to lick it clean.

Then Charles and the X-men died.

For 24 years he wandered alone and without a handler. He was aimless, feral and didn’t have a clue what to do with himself. He has always had a handler and the moment he had chosen to be selfish; had chosen his feelings and wants over the needs and wants of his handler, had resulted in the death and destruction of everyone and everything he held dear.

So, he did what he does best - he obeyed. The humans called him: monster, killer, and blight he followed Charles’ rules to the latter and never once fought back. Not even when they hurt him verbally and emotionally. Not even when they shot him, stabbed him, and burned him.

Charles would’ve been so proud.

Now, for the first time, his leash is held equally by two people.

Wade is kind. He tells Logan that his violence can be good, and his feral nature is beautiful. That he is an equal and can be himself without worrying about being hit or rejected; that it is ok to want things and to say no. Wade calls him Peanut.

Althea is lovely. She accepts Logan for who he is and shares her wisdom. She listens, supports and comforts, but isn’t afraid to discipline. But…her discipline doesn’t make him bleed or cower and when she is angry she doesn’t scream or draw blood. She is gentle and kind. She tells Logan that it is ok to make mistakes, that he is worthy of love and that punishment doesn’t need to be traumatic. She calls him Baby.

They never pull the leash. Sometimes, they don’t even hold it. They simply wait patiently for him to follow and gently led him in the right direction. Around them, he feels he can finally discover who he really is. Around them, he feels safe and wanted. And he doesn’t know how to deal with that.

They give him unconditional love and acceptance, while still setting clear boundaries. They send him to the bedroom to cool off when he loses his temper or has a meltdown. Sometimes Althea wack’s his ankles with her cane. But, they never hit. They never kill him. They never scream. Its all so strange.

They even allowed him to play at being civilian. Let him try his hand at being a bouncer, only forcing him to quit after his collapse eight months earlier. They praised him as he got his current job with S.H.I.E.L.D as a freelance tracker; acting as a glorified bloodhound tracking down bad guys and finding missing people.

His entire life he’d been used as an instrument of death, but now…

Logan glanced at the clock, 7:00 AM. Wade and Althea would be getting up soon. As if on autopilot, Logan took Pup with his clean hand, brought it into the kitchen and set it on the counter - still within reach but far enough out of the way so it wouldn’t get dirty. He cleaned the ziplock bag, then his hands.

Logan gathered ingredients for a quiche and a salad. The stove was pre heated, and the ham and green onions were quickly chopped and set aside.

”Lucky James does it again!” Logan killed five people today. His superior officer claps him on the back and goes to celebrate with the rest of his squadron.

Logan cracked the eggs into a bowl and added milk, salt and pepper, whisking them together.

”FUCKING KILL HIM, YOU FUCKING USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!” Victor screams as Logan hesitates, his hand shaking as he takes aim at a child soldier. He fires.

Sprinkled one cup of cheese, ham and green onion into the pie crust then added the eggs.

”Excellent work, Weapon X” says the man in glasses. The helmet and the battery packs feel heavy, and his bare skin feels cold as he stands in the snow, looming over the bear he was forced to kill.

Then sprinkled an additional 1/2 cup of cheese on top.

Logan howled at the moon, as his pack tore chunks from the caribous corpse. He lets them eat first, then he eats the scraps. He’s so hungry.

He placed the quiche into the oven, and set the timer for 40 minutes.

”Remember, Logan. We aim to save and protect. Not kill.” Charles admonishes, his tone similar to the one an adult uses when speaking to a child. Three days later Charles would send him on a ‘special’ mission, and his claws would be soaked with the blood of another once more.

While the quiche baked, he started the salad. The rhythmic cutting sounds the knife made as it hit the cutting board helped to soothe his frazzled nerves. Logan loved cooking. He loved that it gave him a way to make the people around him happy in a way that didn’t involve hurting others.

The timer went off and his ears twitched. Logan could hear the sound of Althea and Wade’s breathing changing and the tell-tale rustle of blankets. They were waking up.

Water for him, tea for Althea and hot chocolate for Wade, with a slice of quiche and a side of salad. Custom plates and cups in their favourite spot at the table. Then he sat down, Pup in his lap, and waited for them to wake.

A few minutes later they walked out of the bedroom. Ever the observant one, Wade could instantly tell something was off. He turned to Althea, who was right behind him and still rubbing the sleep from her eyes and led her over to her seat.

The timing was horrendous but they understood that when it was time to talk, it was time to talk. Logan had set the mood: relaxed environment, no judgment and don’t make a big deal out of anything; He was emotionally detached, but not fully dissociative, which was good.

Althea dug in, and discreetly gave a small smile. The smell of alcohol was absent. Logan had listened and remembered what she had told him months ago. She was so proud.

“I remembered something. It was bad” Logan said, his tone flat and emotionless. He picked up his slice of quiche with his hands and bit into it.

Wade took a step back and allowed Althea to take the reins. He turned his head toward her and said “Your cup is at 9 O’clock and the cutlery is at 3. Salad’s on the right side of the plate.”

“Oh?” Althea gestured with her fork for Logan to continue.

“Victor…” Logan paused. It was hard to get the words out but he pressed forward, ignoring that voice inside his head that claimed that neither Althea or Wade would care.

“Got angry with me. Cus’ I didn’t listen” he paused once more, took a bite and swallowed. “snapped my neck” then looked away, unable to meet Wade’s eyes “He’d hit me a lot.”

Saying it out loud made him feel as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Scared that people would look at him with disgust, Logan kept what Victor had done to him a painful secret and buried it deep down inside where it had haunted him for eighty long painful years.

“Didn’t listen? Uh, I’m having a hard time believing that. You’re the best listener in the world, Lolo” Wade said, careful to keep his tone measured.

Logan shook his head no.

“Victor..” Althea spat the name out like it was poison “what kind of -“ he lip curled back in disgust, as if even saying the word sounded wrong “man was he?”

“A feral mutant like me. Feline subspecies.” He took another bite and swallowed “didn’t even know there were other mutants like me until I met him. Thought I was the only one.

Upon seeing Althea’s confusion, Wade clarified “There’s all kinds of feral’s” He ticked off his fingers as he spoke “canids, aves, feline’s, ursine’s, weasel’s - like Logan - and even extinct animals, too. They’ve all got different body types and abilities. Hank told me all about it.”

Althea muttered to herself “you listened? It’s a fucking miracle.”

Before Wade could reply, Logan said “S’not just the bodies, s’also the smells. Victor’s scent was a sharp tang, n’Laura’s is a floral musk. S’how we found each other.”

“Hunh. That’s really interesting, Peanut” They knew what he was doing. He was trying to shift the subject, but Althea wasn’t going to let that happen. After all, the more one avoids something, the worse it becomes.

“Good for you for leaving that abusive piece of shit.”

Logan shook his head “I didn’t leave him. Victor died of a stroke. He was unnaturally tall n’something was wrong with his heart. It sounded strange. One moment he was yelling at our superior officer, the next he was on the floor of the mess hall.”

Logan remembers how he smiled through tears after he heard the news of Victor’s passing and the terror that followed. Who was going to pick up the leash?

Althea placed down her cutlery and turned her head in Logan’s direction “you said his heartbeat was weird? What’d it sound like?”

Logan thought for a long moment then clapped his hands: ‘clap clap clap, clap, clap clap, clap,’ then clapped five times as fast as he could. “Why?”

Althea nodded “sounds like Atrial Fibrillation. Lotta very tall people get it cus their hearts have to work extra hard.” She could feel them staring at her. She let out a sigh and said “I wasn’t always blind, you know. Ever since I was a young thing, I wanted to be a doctor, just like Edith Irby Jones.” She let out a wistful sigh, then her mood seemed to sour a little.

"But god had other plans for me.” She picked up her fork and absentmindedly pushed the food around her plate with it “I was in university when shit started going south. First my night vision went, then things started getting blurry. The tunnel vision kicked in and by the time I was 37 I was completely blind and my dreams went to shit.”

The air was heavy and the room was silent, as Wade and Logan grappled with the new information. Sounding surprisingly happy, Althea calmly added “But, sometimes what you want, isn’t what you need - “

Wade interrupted “that’s right Al, fuck those dreams. Way to be toxically positive.”

Althea’s medical background explained a lot. How she knew the best ways to get bloodstains out of pretty much anything, her suspicious knowledge of prescription drugs and what could and couldn’t be snorted or sprinkled in food or drinks.

How she knew what amount of cocaine she could safely ingest while on her blood pressure medication or what drugs could be mixed together and what should be avoided, it was all so obvious. Wade felt like a fucking idiot.

“Boy, if you don’t shut your goddamn mouth…” she took a calming breath and then exhaled “my point is, is if I hadn’t become blind, I wouldn’t be who I am today and I wouldn’t have my boys.”

“You have children?” Logan and Wade asked at the same time.

She did a double take. Holy shit, they were so fucking stupid. Althea leaned back in her chair and said with a mischievous smile “two. The eldest is a wild child, but very well behaved. He’s got a temper though, doesn’t talk much and is riddled with anxiety and self hatred. The youngest is a hyperactive, highly observant gremlin that has so much love within himself, but it’s often drowned out by his insecurity and depression. But you’d never know that, cus he hides his pain behind a wall of humour so thick you could bounce a ball off of it.”

There was silence. Exasperated, Althea threw her hands up and loudly said “Jesus Christ, you two are the smartest idiots I’ve ever met. I’m talkin’ about you two!”

“Awwww ma!” Food forgotten, Wade pulled Althea into a hug. Still smiling and giddy as can be, he then said “I owe Ellie twenty dollars. Goddamn it.”

Wait…

What?!

Her child? Logan’s brow furrowed. This had never happened before. This was not how it was supposed to go. When people picked up his leash, they always held it tight - not letting go until their death or until someone stronger took it from them.

But Althea, she didn’t just drop her leash, she unclipped it from his collar and threw it away.

What the fuck was happening?

He didn’t understand. This was all so confusing. Not even Charles-

It was all so scary.

It was all so different.

He was so thankful.

Althea melted as Logan joined the hug. He laid his head down on her other shoulder, mirroring Wade, and wrapped his arms around them both.

For as long as Logan could remember, he has always had a handler. Now he has a mother.

Chapter Text

There were two corpses at his door.

Rogue’s body extended a handless arm in greeting. Everything above her bottom jaw was missing. She gave a boisterous hello. Strange Logan thought to himself corpses can’t talk.

His eyes are empty Marie observed, unsettled. She gave another enthusiastic hello, and when Logan continued to stand there she simply glanced at Kurt, unsure of what to do. It was as if Logan was mentally unable to process their presence.

Kurt's corpse mouthed out, the bullet hole in the middle of his head leaking blood “Logan, are you well?"

A single .270 Winchester cartridge had pierced Kurt's head, killing him instantly. The X-men of his world were never considered anything less than animals. So, that night, the humans had dealt with them accordingly.

First, they sprayed the mansion, inside and out, with mutation suppression bullets. With their mutation suppressed it was just a matter of picking them off one by one like wild game and that’s exactly what they did. Hunting cartridges reduced many of the bodies to unrecognizable states, especially since so many took the time to aim right for the head.

And that was how Logan found them. Their bodies gored and stacked like wood right on the front lawn of the estate that had been consumed in flames while the humans cheered and desecrated the bodies of his friends. After that he was consumed in a blind, feral, rage and woke up days later with his claws deep in the belly of a pregnant woman.

Through the fog in his mind Logan heard his name being called, though it sounded very far away. He inhaled and found that the smell of blood, fire, gunpowder and rotting corpses was completely absent.

There was a floral musk: Laura
The smell of rot and cilantro: Wade
The lingering scent of lavender scented laundry detergent and cocaine: Mother

Thats right. Home. He wasn't at the mansion anymore, he was home.

With each new scent the fog in Logan’s mind began to dissipate. The corpses became whole and the blood disappeared.

Peaches and a scent that was ever changing: Rogue
Ozone and old books:Kurt

It was then that he began to remember.

With Laura living at the mansion avoiding the X-Men forever simply wasn’t an option. She had come to him a week ago with the news that Rogue and Kurt needed to talk to him about something. Took her and Wade the entire week to help mentally prepare him for their visit. They went over who and what to expect and what time they’d arrive and leave.

“Moonbeam” he breathed, the fog in his brain gone. It was a nickname he thought would never pass his lips again. Did this Rogue and her Logan also have the same nicknames for each other? He prayed that they did. He wanted to hear her say it once more.

“Ground Bear!” Rogue cried, jumping into his arms. Logan returned the hug, his heart nearly bursting. God, he missed her so goddamn much. They stayed like this for a minute before breaking apart.

He then turned to address curt with a small smile “nice to see ya, Elf.”

Kurt returned the smile “the same to you, mine freund.”

Rogue and Kurt were standing at his door.

Gone was the shy thing that he rescued all those years ago. Rogue had blossomed into a confident woman, which was reflected in the way she dressed and carried herself. She wore a green long sleeved crop top, and skinny yellow jeans, brown boots and a brown jacket with rolled up sleeves.

An air of patience and gentleness followed Kurt like a second shadow. He wore a black turtleneck, loose jeans and a trench coat. His prayer beads were safely nestled in the front pocket. He wore no shoes and his tail swished happily back and forth. He was also covered in decorative scars which Logan’s Kurt had lacked.

It broke his heart seeing what they could’ve become had their lives not been cut so drastically short.

Just like beast said no grey streaks in his hair and he seemed physically healthier. Gone was the scent of cigars and booze that tended to linger replaced with wet dog, musk and baked goods.

His smile didn't reach his eyes, which were like dark pools of water. Hope and happiness were sprinkled in his gaze like fish food in a tank; present but only surface deep. But he had an air of calm and subdued anger that her Logan lacked as well. So similar and yet so different, it was strange but not unwelcome. She was just happy to see her Ground Bear again.

—
Laura was jealous. She was jealous of Rogue and the love that Logan was showering her with. She was jealous that Logan loved Rogue more than her, she knew this to be true. Logan never had a nickname for her, never looked at her like that. It was so un-fucking-fair.

But Laura knew that this was going way better than either of them had expected. He was willingly interacting with them and seemed to be happy. His dissociative episode lasted all of two minutes before he snapped out of it. That was a very big deal.

With a grunt, Laura put her head in her hands and suppressed a yell. If she ruined this, if she let her anger take control, she knew it would do irreparable damage and Logan would never willingly interact with any of the X-men ever again.

She smelled him before she saw him. Laura sighed and asked “where’s Althea?”

“Community Centre. Disabled seniors bingo day, she’s been pretty chuffed over it lately” Wade threw himself down on the couch to sit beside her. “Met a new friend…some guy named Beyong-Cheol. She literally will not shut the fuck up about him.”

Wade shook his head and chuckled “Took Mary with her, too. Devious bitch she is, she convinced the volunteers that Mary is her emotional support rotisserie with the shakes. She loves how disgusted and unsettled Mary makes everyone - makes it easier to win games, she says. Anyways, why don’t you go ahead tell me what’s got you all fucked up?”

“Nothing bothering me” Wade gave her a look that said ‘fucking really?’ “Two peas in a fucking pod, the two of you I swear to god.”

“He loves her more than me” She was silent for a long while, her hands clasped together and resting on her lap. Laura leaned back and rested her head on the couch’s back, her gaze locked on the ceiling as she listened to Logan, Rogue and Kurt chat among themselves as they sat at the table.

“I don’t blame him” Laura bit her lip and started to fiddle with her hands “Rogue has a mom and a dad that wanted her. Me? I’m only here because some woman was forcefully impregnated with his DNA. Neither of them had a choice. So, of course he loves her more.”

She then muttered “didn’t even give me a nickname.”

Wade cut her off. He didn’t offer any words of sympathy or give her a rousing ‘you matter’ speech, he simply said “follow me” and lead her into the bedroom.

He sat down in front of the dresser and motioned for her to sit next to him. He opened the bottom drawer, revealing Logan’s clothes all neatly folded and organized within. As careful as could be, Wade dug through it’s contents and then pulled out a well used leather notebook.

Found by accident while searching for Logan’s communication cards during a particularly bad dissociative episode, the item in question was a secret compendium that had beautifully hand written information about each member of Logan’s pack and little notes sprinkled throughout.

Wade opened it to the page marked ‘pup’ and passed it to Laura.

Written on her page was:

-Likes horses. All breeds? Favourite breed? Would she enjoy a stuffed horse or is she too old for one?
-Sunglasses looking worse for wear. Should I buy her new ones?
-Seems to enjoy crab meat and sardines. Will send more to the mansion.
-Requires new clothes. Put aside more money for new wardrobe.
-is she courting? Does she need the talk? the last part was crossed out Would it be presumptuous of me to do so?
-Caught the strong scent of chemicals while walking past the sanitary napkins at the grocery today. This is unacceptable. Mother says there are reusable ones? Must get some for Laura.
-Does she require more blankets and pillows for her nest?

Laura blushed. She felt embarrassed but also very grateful - though she’d never admit it. The disposable pads smelled horrendous and using them made her feel gross. Old man Logan had never been this invested in her wellbeing, nor had anyone else. It was nice.

She turned the page and a rectangular shape fell at her feet. She picked it up - it was a chequebook. The first cheque was mostly filled out, but the amount was left blank. Flipping through it she realized every cheque within the book was made out to the same person: Charles Xavier.

A single tear made it’s way down her cheek, she turned away and rested Logan’s belongings on her lap. She felt Wade’s hand on her back as he rubbed it “he loves you, Laura.”

“It was all him” realization dawned and she looked at Wade, astonished “all that extra shit - it was all him. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He fusses a lot, you know. Althea said that pain teaches us who we are, but sometimes it can teach us the wrong lessons, too. Logan’s trying his best, Laura, he’s just…afraid.”

She wanted to press for more answers, she had so many questions! Why was he so invested in her well-being? What was he afraid of? Who was mother? Laura stared at Wade for a moment and realized that the answers would come eventually. Or maybe they might not ever come, and that was something she’d simply have to accept.

After all, She knew better than anyone that Logan was a private person and trying to force information out of him was like trying to squeeze water from a stone. She’d hope he’d come to her eventually, but understood if he chose not to.

Wade then said “and for the record, he does have a nickname for you” he rubbed her back once more and smiled with that shit eating grin “he calls you pup.”

Pup, just like his treasure. she turned away, smirked and then punched Wade in the arm.

—-
Rogue and Kurt sat at the table and watched as Logan busied himself with preparing tea. They said their thanks as Logan each passed each of them a cup, and then smiled as he placed his own down before heading back to the kitchen.

Rogue chuckled “Didn’t take ya for a My Little Pony fan, Ground Bear.”

“I’m not, Wade is. Bought this for me my first week here. Says I’m Applejack coded, whatever the fuck that means” he said as he placed two small containers of milk and honey onto the table.

“Not just here for a visit.” Logan observed as he sat down with a sigh.

“Fraid’ not, Ground Bear. Nothin’ bad, just wanna clear somethin’ up” she reached into her jacket and took out an envelope. Logan’s keen nose picked up the unmistakable smell of his own scent. He didn’t need to open it to know his cheque to Xavier was inside.

She placed it on the table and slid it toward him “Been sendin’ Xavier cheques every month. What he - we wanna know is why?”

Logan raised a brow and tapped his head with his pointer finger “been over this with Chuck. It’s for Laura. She’s a feral with a healin’ factor….she needs lots of calories n’proper, healthy food.” He took a sip of tea and let out a grunt “none of that preservative, high fructose corn syrup, bullshit.”

Kurt and Rogue shared a look. Logan had been in contact with Charles? They didn’t know that.

Curious and wanting to know more, Kurt asked “the preservatives…do they make you feel unwell?”

It was that quick micro expression of disbelief that made Kurt want to grab his prayer beads and mutter a quick prayer. The feeling of not being listened to is a painful one, and he suspected that it was a feeling that this Logan was very aquatinted with. It made his heart hurt.

Logan shrugged “S’pretty much part n’parcel for all feral’s. We can eat it but it makes ya feel like dog shit. Don’t wanna force Laura to deal with that, she deserves better.”

He was so blasé when discussing his health that it greatly disturbed them. Had their Logan felt like this too? Would a different diet have helped him from getting sick? Would it have made him happier? The idea that they were harming someone so dear to their heart, even accidentally, made them feel disgusted. What had they done?

Kurt spoke up “Mein freund, the kinder are allowed to eat as much as they please and we accommodate all diets. You know this.”

“An’t just the diet, Elf, s’the cost.” Logan tapped the envelope a few times for emphasis “she’s smaller than me, n’doesn’t get her shit rocked on the regular - or at least she better fucking not be - so her caloric intake is much lower than mine, but still much higher than a regular kids.”

Before Kurt could reply, Logan held up a finger to sush him, knocked back some tea, and tapped the envelope once more “then there’s the added cost of fresh fruit, vegetables, meats, n’whatever other snacks she prefers, which can add up to hundreds of extra dollars a month. So, don’t give me that ‘Chuck wont care’ spiel when it comes to shit like this, cus he absolutely will. At least if I’m payin’ then no one can get up her ass for it.”

Rogue and Kurt shared a look as if having a silent conversation between themselves. “There’s somethin’ yer not tellin’ me, Ground Bear. Somethin’ you wanna say but the words an’t comin’. Our Logan had the same issue, but I think I can help.”

She scooted her chair closer and leaned forward, removing her gloves as she spoke “I can see people’s memories with my powers….a minute’s all I need. Won’t you let me see?”

After a brief moment’s hesitation, he placed his hands in hers. Black and purple tendrils snaked up his arms and they both let out a gasp.

She feels the feelings of sadness and isolation; of wanting to belong but never fitting in. She feels his need to please Xavier and the disappointment of never being good enough for anyone. She feels hunger and sees Logan having to make due with meagre portions of food that are nowhere near enough for his metabolism.

A tear fell down her cheek as she sees Xavier looking at him with the love of a father, and the emotional abuse he’d heap upon Logan to keep him in line. She wonders to herself was Xavier even aware he was doing that? Then there is blood, corpses - her own and the corpses of others stacked like wood while bad men cheer and the mansion is set ablaze.

Then there is the pain. Images of Weapon X and the facility. Feelings of being violated, the pain of the blades kiss as flesh and muscle are stripped away as they operate. No sedation. No respite. Just pain. So much pain. White hot blinding, all encompassing, pain!

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO HIM?!” Wade screamed. The scream is enough to pull Rogue out of her trance. Logan’s laboured breathing was so loud, and it was then she realized she accidentally absorbed his super senses. Christ, everything was so loud! she wanted to cry.

With a gasp, she let go, her hands shaking ever so slightly and Logan let out a wheeze and fell forward. Wade ran toward him and gathered him in his arms and ground out “Get the fuck out of my goddamn house, you bitch.”

Catching his breath, Logan tapped Wade’s arm and shook his head ‘no’ “S’ok, Wade. Not Moonbeam’s fault, mine.”

Unsure of what to do, Laura kept her distance and watched from afar.

Rogue looked toward the ceiling, wrapped her arms around herself and let out a shaky sigh. No wonder he avoided the grounds like the plague. The mansion was nothing more than a house of corpses and bad memories. Her poor Ground Bear.

Still shaking she forced herself to be strong and shoved all the pain deep down - she’d deal with it later. “We would never…She’s safe, Logan. I promise you, she’s safe."

Still fuming, Wade bit back some choice words and walked into the kitchen. In the bullet, he added fish and meat cubes to the mystery smoothie, alongside plenty of yogourt, honey and cinnamon. He turned in Logan’s direction, only slightly as to be discreet, and saw Logan’s hands shaking. The no spill cup would be the perfect choice but he knew that Logan wouldn’t appreciate that right now.

After all, the only people who knew about the heavy days were himself, Al, and he suspected Hank knew too, but it wasn’t his place to ask. Wade placed the meaty drink into a tall plastic cup and onto the table next to Logan’s mug.

Using both hands Logan clumsily grasped the cup and took slow sips.

As he did this, Rogue noticed her senses becoming much sharper and intense and the joints in her hands began to ache terribly. She looked up, her eyes focused on his dog tags and it was then she noticed a slight difference between them and the ones her Logan had given to her for safe keeping all those years ago.

Her Logan’s blood type was A-. This Logan’s tag’s listed his blood type as O-. The tags themselves looked very well taken care of. Rogue found herself unable to ruminate over the differences as the smell of the drink hit her full force. It smelled so foul that she wanted to vomit.

Laura’s nose twitched and it took all of her self control not to start drooling on the spot. God, that drink smelled so fucking good.

With every sip his strength returned until the entire glass was gone and the shaking in his hands had stopped completely. Switching to Spanish, Logan turned in his chair to address Laura, eyes narrowed. One arm resting on the chairs back and the other resting on the table in a tight fist ‘is she telling the truth?’

For a very long moment all Laura could do was simply stand there, while trying to cope with the fact that the man in front of her was fluent in Spanish. Judging by the surprised looks of everyone around her, sans Wade, it seemed they weren't aware of his fluency either.

‘Yes’ she said simply.

‘I need you to be completely honest with me, Laura. Does anyone in the mansion say or do things that make you feel ashamed? If so, I swear to you i'll put a stop to it.’

Rogue didn’t need to understand Spanish to know what he was asking Laura. She could see it in his eyes, the anxiety and fear. Oh, how her heart ached for him.

What a strange question she thought to herself. Laura moved closer and tried to push for more information. ‘No. They encourage me. Why do you ask?’

Logan relaxed, but only just a little. Her answer had made it abundantly clear that the X-Men from his world, and the X-Men in this world, were very, very different. Not ready to reveal to her the mistreatment he received at the hands of his X-men, he dodged her question and changed the subject.

‘...They're not using you as a shield, are they?’

He tensed, preparing himself for her answer. Logan desperately hoped she’d say no, because if she said yes, then he’d have to make a very difficult decision that he really didn’t want to have to make. He loved Hank, Rogue and Kurt, but if he had to choose between their friendship and Laura’s safety, then he’d choose her over them every single time.

Laura shook her head no and moved closer. He was pressing for information, but she had no idea why. Something was making him guarded and anxious.

‘No, I’m not allowed on missions yet. The professor says I need to learn to control my anger and finish my remedial studies before I'm allowed out on the field. Storm is helping me with my penmanship and the other teachers are helping me catch up on all my subjects.’

Thank god Logan let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. She was safe, being taken care of and respected. But then he did a double take and repeated ‘control my anger’ under his breath to himself a few times.

During the raid of Cassandra’s lair his sensitive hearing had picked up all of Laura’s screams and roars as she mercilessly cut down Cassandra’s men. She had a temper, just like him, just like how he used to have before the incident.

The whole room went silent when Logan’s eyes narrowed and he asked, his tone no nonsense ‘anger? What the fuck did you do?’

Laura replied with a shrug and said, as if discussing the weather ‘I..might have thrown a desk.’

‘Might have, or did?’ Everyone in the room sucked in a breath, they all knew that tone.

‘I’m not answering that question.’

She felt like a bug under a magnifying glass, his gaze intense and unwavering. Then, after a very long moment of silence, Logan growled out ‘who did you throw the desk at?'

Oh, he was good. Sweating bullets, she eeked out ’Professor Summers, he was being a dick. He knows I struggle with my writing and he docked points anyways.’

That's funny as fuck Logan hid a laugh behind a cough, he had to be responsible ’can’t be doing that Laura, you know better than that. Did you apologize?’

‘…..Eventually.’

He shook his head and grunted. Now he knew how Chuck felt ‘Christ..just don’t do it again. If anyone gives you shit then just call me n'we can talk about it, ok?.'

Laura rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, hoping to ease his anxiety ‘Thank you, Papá, I promise I will.’

The room went quiet. Rogue and Kurt were smiling like idiots. At first she didn’t understand. They didn’t know Spanish, so what?……….oh. OH NO. Fuck! She face palmed.

Logan let out a loud in-between of a cluck and a chirp then slapped his hands over his mouth, mortified, then let out a groan and slammed his head on the table. Two peas in a pod they were.

What a wonderful sound Kurt thought to himself. It sounded like a sunny day and was more pure than a child’s laughter. With a pang of sadness he realized that his Logan must've had the ability to make such wonderful sounds too. Ah, they had failed him so greatly.

Without even looking up, Logan slid the envelope back in Rogues direction and mumbled “Just take the fucking money.”

“Ok, Ground Bear” her hands still aching, Rogue took the cheque and slipped it back into her coat pocket “ok.”

The mood was awkward, unpleasant and strained. Kurt leaned over and began whispering something into Rogues ear. As he did so, Laura walked over to Wade and asked “Can I borrow a piece of paper and a pen?” Then she added, remembering the manners that Charles had taught her “please.”

A pad of paper and a My Melody Pen was taken out of the drawer by the fridge and he handed them to her. She speed walked to the living room and began to write.

Papá,

I know your book is private and I’m sorry I looked. Please don’t be upset.

.My favourite breed of horse is the Shire. I’ve never had a plush toy before but I think it’d be nice to have one.

.I want to go clothes shopping with you, papá. Shopping with the others is ok, but they take too long and talk too much. I don’t understand why, isn’t the point shopping for clothes just going in, getting something and then leaving? Why does it have to involve so much talking? Why does it take so long? I legenametily she made a frustrated sound and scribbled it out legitmately don’t get it. Please explain it to me.

.I would love another pair of sunglasses.

She paused in her writing and asked Wade, trying to pronounce the word “what does courting mean?”

Wade replied, still upset “it’s an old fuck term, that means you’re trying to woo someone before you pop the question. By the way, your penmanship’s getting better, Laura.” He said, taking a quick glance at the paper before looking away once more.

Transgen never bothered to teach her how to write and her family in the Void didn’t have the time to teach her, because they were too busy surviving - so she simply never learned. Thankfully, the X-Men were more than happy to teach her.

Laura let out a sensible chuckle as she continued.

.I’m not corting anyone. I’m not even dating. I’ve had the talk but it was from Scott and he made it boring. Half the class fell asleep and I spaced out so, you could explain it if you want.

.I’d really like some reusable pads. The single use ones fucking suck.

.My nest fucking sucks. How do you keep yours standing? Mine keeps collapsing. Seriously, what the fuck am I doing wrong?

Love,

Laura

She folded it in half and handed it to Wade. He took it and slipped it into his back pocket.

“You’re not gonna look?”

“Nope. What’s written here is between you and Logan.”

She gave him a slight smile and a nod of her head, then rushed toward the front door where Kurt and Rogue were now standing. They were giving Logan their goodbye’s, and although they seemed rather exhausted and down, there was an air of happiness surrounding them too.

Laura and Rogue each grabbed onto an arm, and Laura just managed to let out a goodbye before she disappeared in a puff of smoke.

—-

Laura ran ahead on all fours, taking her time to weave through the topiary’s and flowers.

Far behind, Kurt and Rogue walked very slowly before coming to a stop right near the water fountain.

“Something has you worried” Kurt said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Saw some concerning things in his memories..regarding Charles. Summa the things his Xavier said and did ta him…ours does too sometimes, just didn’t wanna see it. But I’m done lookin’ the other way; I’m done with these rose covered glasses. Kurt, we gotta keep an eye out, cus I don’t want anyone in these walls thinkin’ they are less than for things they can’t control.”

She brushed off his his hand and began to angrily pace, rubbing her sore hands as she did so.

“There is something else that is weighing heavily on your mind.”

“His blood type is O-…universal donor. I….just sayin’ it out loud makes me wanna cry, Kurt. But I think his Charles was usin’ him as more than just a shield.”

It took Kurt a long moment to absorb the information “what are you implying, fräulein?”

“I think he was usin’ Logan’s blood ta heal the rest of the team.”

“Charles would never do such a barbaric thing!” Kurt quickly replied, sounding almost defensive. She understood, she really did, after all it was Charles who gave him a home and rescued him from a life on the streets. But this was far more important than either of their feelings and opinions.

“You didn’t see! You didn’t feel. Jus’ promise me you’ll keep an eye on Laura, ok?”

Kurt grabbed the prayer beads from his pocket, nodded then kneeled and began to pray. With the knowledge of what she had seen and felt weighing so heavily on her mind, Rogue walked back to the mansion with her head hung low.

Chapter Text

Standing behind the yellow line, and head kept on a swivel, Logan kept a firm, but gentle grip on Althea. With her left hand she held onto Logan’s arm and with the right she held her cane. She said, preening and proud as a peacock “ooooooh Beyong-Cheol is gonna be so fucking jealous when he see’s you. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Baby.”

He didn’t reply, Logan simply patted her hand and pulled her a little closer, making sure to keep her safe. His inner solider unable to relax for even a second outside the house. Logan had his pack, his mother, his alpha and pup, and he’d be damned if he allowed any harm come to them as a result of his own negligence. The smell was also an issue. It always was. It took immense self control not to puke on the spot from the sheer repulsive stench that seemed to hug every corner of the subway.

Logan was wearing a red and black plaid shirt with a black a-shirt underneath, and sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing off his muscular arms, a pair of jeans, leather boots and noise canceling headphones. His communication cards were clipped onto his belt loop.

Althea was clad in a dark purple zip up hoody, comfy black pants, a fanny pack that was worn across her chest to deter theft, sunglasses and well worn sneakers. She had her all white mobility cane, black sunglasses and was wearing a combination of eccentric chunky rings and necklace. She loved chunky jewelry. She could feel its weight and she loved the way it felt on her skin and the ease of which she could ‘see’ it through touch. It also made her feel very, very fancy.

As they waited for the subway, making sure to keep behind the yellow line, Logan’s thoughts kept returning to yesterday night when he had found Laura’s letter in his notebook. At first he had felt angry that something he had considered private had been shared.

What right did Wade have sharing his private thoughts like that? Who the fuck did he think he was? Granted, he had known for a while now that Wade knew of the notebook. Wade’s scent was all over it should’ve fuckin’ moved the goddamn thing ages ago.

Then he read the note and his negative feelings turned to understanding. After giving himself some time to think, Logan had understood why Wade had done what he did, and he was pleased with the result, but he still remained rather furious at Wade regardless. It was a strange feeling to have and was far more complex than he wanted to deal with. So, he did what he always did when he felt this way: he pushed it deep down and ignored it.

Logan had always found the written word to be a far better way to convey his thoughts than spoken. Writing allowed him to stop and think about what he really wanted to say, unlike speaking where everything was too overwhelming and chaotic. The written word also allowed him to absorb the information he was given at his own pace and sort through his feelings.

Now that he knew what Laura wanted and needed, Logan was determined to get at least one thing from her list today and was going to make an honest effort and take his time. No more rushing back home, no more pussying out. He quit smoking for Althea and stopped binge drinking for Wade, he could do this for Laura. He could be brave.

An announcement rang out ’please stand behind the yellow line’. and several people took a step back, sans a few who were too focused on their phones, lost in their own world of work emails and TikTok reels.

The train’s doors opened and people ran out in droves, pushing into each other and biting out unkind words. Logan waited a few seconds before entering with Althea. It wasn’t super packed, but it was busy enough that most of the seats were taken. Logan lead her over to the seats near the door, and frowned when a teenaged boy - who was entirely too focused on his phone - looked up for a split second to acknowledge them and refused to move.

Logan bared his teeth and let out a low growl, causing the little brat to look up once more. The boy paled, he’d seen that look before, it was one that promised violence if he didn’t comply. Without so much of a peep, he shot up from the chair and ran to the back of the car, putting as much space between himself and Logan as possible.

“You see that shit? He fucking growled at me” the boy leaned over and ranted to the random woman, who was rolling her eyes and trying her very best to be mentally anywhere else but there.

“Fucking growled! Fuck, they’ll let anyone on the train” the woman beside him muttered “wow that’s crazy” in reply, the disgust for the little shit beside her evident as she squished herself closer to the window, trying to get a little bit more of that precious space between herself and the creep.

Logan helped Althea sit down and stood in front of her, his hand holding onto the handrail above. She pulled her cane closer, continuing to wax poetic about Beyong-Cheol and their trip to this grocery. With a small smile, Logan listened intently. He loved hearing her talk; he loved her enthusiasm. It reminded him of Wade when the latter would endlessly chatter about katanas, MLP;FIM, or the Golden Girls. It was nice.

A few seats down a grandmother tapped her grandson with the back of her hand and nodded in Althea and Logan’s direction “fuckin’ glued to your phone, why can’t you be more like him? Pays attention and listens, you could learn a thing or two!”

With a groan, the teen slumped over in his seat like a shrimp and placed his phone into his pocket.

As Logan listened to Althea talk, his mind wandered back to the first shopping trip he ever took in this world and how far he had come since then.

Logan stopped. He looked so small, scared and was hunched over as if he was afraid to take up too much space “Can’t…not allowed.”

Meek, submissive and quiet weren’t words Wade had ever expected to use when describing the Wolverine yet, as he watched Logan wring his hands anxiously and looked around as if he was expecting something terrible to happen, it’s all he could see “why not?”

“You’ll get kicked if you’re seen with me, bub. I’ll go sit over there” Logan pointed to a bench that was a respectable distance away from the store. It was easier to not give a shit when he had come to this world with the intention of sacrificing himself or leaving, but now that it was permanent; now that he had a home, he had to be careful. One wrong move and everything would come crashing down.

Logan was in Wade’s spare clothing: a Pinky Pie shirt that was being stretched to it’s limit over his muscled form, a green cardigan, slightly too short grey sweats and pink crocks.

“See, that’s not gonna work. I love you Peanut, but destroying my clothing does not fly, because I’m not made of money, even though I really wish I was” he leaned in close to Logan’s chest and pointed to the stretched out image of Pinky Pie “see? She’s screaming ‘heeeeelp meee Wade, I’m being destroyed by his sexy pecs!’” He looked up at Logan with pleading eyes “give her a break, Logan, get your own fucking clothes.”

The moment they stepped foot in the store, Logan’s words locked themselves away and he scanned the area for all the exits, so that he’d be able to make a quick getaway. Wade, who had given him a home. Wade, who had rescued him from his old world. Wade, who had stayed with him despite all of his flaws, he didn’t deserve what was to come. He deserved better.

Bad things happened to those who were kind to Logan. The kind humans who extended a helping hand also became person non grata by extension. Though they could earn back their place within the community, it was a long and arduous process that many didn’t want to deal with.

He learned to keep quiet, to keep himself small and invisible. The only reprieve were bars, and they only let him in to drink because the knew they could quickly recoup their losses. Logan made the perfect human punching bag. He never fought back, and couldn’t die, so men would come in droves to have a few, then would sober up by beating him until they grew tired and moved on. Then, eventually, the violence extended outside the bars as well.

This fucked up ritual was the only human interaction he got so, he began to crave it and it became a fucked up cycle of alcohol addiction and self punishment.

The noise and the lights were also quite overwhelming. Before the incident his hearing had somewhat adapted to the hustle and bustle of public places, but being isolated as long as he was had erased all of that progress.

“You’re a flannel guy for sure so…” blissfully unaware to his suffering, or uncaring, Wade took a few off the rack, all different colours, and placed them in Logan’s arms. Then he did the same with some jeans, tanks, and boots muttering something about ‘cowboy core’ as he did so.

Logan was too busy trying to figure out why the humans were ignoring him to focus on shopping. Were they planning something? Were they trying to make him lower his guard? Then a child began to cry and he flinched.

As they approached the changing rooms, Logan’s sharp gaze spotted a human and he went white as a sheet. His palms grew sweaty and his heart rate speed up. The human would see him and he and Wade would be completely fucked. He averted his gaze as he had learned to do and took a step back to put space between himself and Wade, hoping that they’d focus all of their violence on him instead of his new best friend.

But to his surprise, the changing room lady simply looked him up and down, saw his averted gaze, mismatched clothing and anxious mannerisms and proceeded to address him as if he were a child “awwww are we getting some new clothes today? That’s so great.” She took the pile from him “did you pick these out all on your own? Good job."

Logan was like a plush that was one good pull from being unravelled; a shitty patchwork job the only thing keeping him from falling apart. In a rather unkind tone, Wade said none too kindly “he’s nonverbal and doesn’t like crowds. So, if you could hurry the fuck up and get us a changing room, that’d be great.”

In the privacy of the changing room Wade turned away to allow Logan some privacy and lowered his voice to an almost whisper as to be discreet “surprised you didn’t rip that bitches head off for speaking to you like that.”

Logan didn’t reply. He tried on the clothing as fast as he could and made sure to neatly fold it and set it off to the side with shaking hands when finished. Just because things were going well didn’t mean he could relax.

Wade was silent for a moment and watched Logan out of the corner of his eye. Anxiety and fear were rolling off of Logan in waves and Wade wracked his brain trying to think of what exactly had triggered this nervous breakdown. Was it the store? The people?

Who fucking knew? Wade sure as fuck didn’t. His new housemate was completely, and utterly incapable of properly communicating with anyone.

Unable to stand watching a proud, fearless man, act like a kicked dog, Wade pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. What Logan needed was direction and orders, like a soldier; someone to take control.

He said, in a slow, calm voice “here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re going to take these clothes to the checkout and buy them and then we are going to leave. You don’t have to say anything, just put your clothes back on, pick up the folded pile and follow me.”

Wade clipped the leash to Logan’s collar and tugged, taking up the mantle of handler. Logan was all too happy to follow.

Logan had come such a long way. He was no longer afraid to go into stores and was able to buy things for himself. However, for reasons he still didn’t quite understand, his voice always locked itself away the moment he stepped foot outside the apartment. The only exception to this was when he was around other mutants, S.H.I.E.L.D or the military. This worlds Beast said he had something called selective mutism that seemed to only be triggered around human civilians, sans Dopinder and Althea.

The noise canceling headphones and communication cards also helped in navigating through daily life. Logan had expected ridicule the moment he went outside with his assistive devices but had found that the civilians of this world were very accommodating and understanding. No one gave him shit, they simply just accepted it and it made Logan very relieved.

With Althea holding onto his arm, Logan helped her step off the train and up the stairs.

A part of Logan wished he could go back to the days where he could walk into an establishment and say and do whatever he wanted without a care in the world. No communication cards, no noise canceling headphones, just no fucks given.

But, deep down, if Logan were honest with himself, he knew that he had always struggled with noise and never liked crowded places, he just had to hide his pain and discomfort because he knew no one truly gave a shit.

The sun was bright and the air smelled a little cleaner than usual. Leaves danced on the wind and fell at their feet, the brilliant oranges and reds giving way with a satisfying crunch with each step.

Althea deliberately walked slower, forcing Logan to do the same. He had never actually took the time to explore New York in it’s entirety because, just like shopping, walking around the city was an overwhelming and miserable experience. Logan’s strategy always went like this: make a list, plan the route, get in, get shit, get out and back home as quickly as possible. But now that he was forced into a slower pace, Logan found himself pleasantly surprised.

This area of NY felt like another place entirely. The shops were smaller, much more welcoming and the civilians were quieter, much more dispersed and paid neither Althea or he any heed. It was nice.

Logan’s gaze was drawn to a quaint little store. In it’s large window there were medium sized plushies all lined up in a row. A koala, teddy, elephant, giraffe, and a fluffy bay coloured horse with white markings on it’s face and legs, It’s mane and tail was long and shaggy.

Upon closer inspection Logan also spotted soft blankets, soaps, what looked like some kind of moisturizer and other small luxury’s. A blanket for Althea, moisturizer for Wade….it wasn’t just Laura he’d be shopping for, but his entire pack. Challenge fucking accepted. No matter how overstimulated he became or how awful the visit went, he was going to get those gifts.

“Gorani Market is the name of the grocery we’re lookin’ for.” Althea said kindly, snapping him out of his mental reverie and focused back on her. They walked for a few more minutes until the store came into view. Logan gave her hand a small pat to signal that they’d arrived.

It was a small family owned grocery. It was in a really weird spot that was out of the way but not too much so that it was a total inconvenience. There was a small chalk sign off to the left that had the name of the store, Gorani market, written in bubbly pink lettering. The deals of the week hand written in Korean then English. A super cute water deer drawing decorated the bottom. He sniffed the air and was taken aback by the overabundant smell of fresh produce, meats and fermented foods. It smelled wonderful.

Maybe this wont be fucking awful thought Logan.

Immediately upon entering, they were greeted by an older Korean man who slowly walked toward them on forearm crutches, his voice impressively loud “Althea! You came. I was worried you would not find your way.”

Althea laughed “Hard to get lost when your voice is so damn loud!” Logan recognized that laugh as the one his late wife Mariko used to make around him before they married. Althea was smitten!

“Beyong-Cheol, this is Logan. Logan, this is Beyong-Cheol.” Althea gestured with her hand in what she assumed was Cheol’s direction. Logan gave a stiff nod but avoided eye contact, choosing to focus on the floor instead.

Beyong-Cheol was 80 years old, three weeks younger than Althea and her number one bingo buddy. He had short white hair, a bald spot on the back of his head and was clean shaven. He wore slacks, a baggy green sweater with a dress shirt underneath, brown loafers, and forearm crutches. Life had not been easy for Beyong-Cheol. Due to the Korean War, malnutrition was all too common, thus leading him to be born with a rather severe case of rickets. He did eventually get better, but his legs remained bowed and the joints painful.

After joining disabled senior’s bingo nights a month and a half ago, he and Althea became fast friends. They bickered and bragged about their kids, desperately trying to one up the other. Both parties were convinced their kids were the best and refused to hear otherwise. They were constantly at each others throats, but would quickly shut down anyone who attacked the other.

His daughter, 30 year old Yu-Jin, was the unofficial new owner of the store, and the apple of her dads eye. She had long black hair pulled back into a ponytail, long legs, prominent fang like snaggleteeth that protruded from her upper lip and long eyelashes. She was dressed in black leggings and a long baggy pink sweater with a picture of Neo from Kakao on the front. Yu-Jin was the best loss prevention in NY and wore a well used pair of nike sneakers, which she used to chase down thieves without remorse.

Logan sniffed the air once more. Amongst all the smells was a scent that was not quite human; a smell that no perfume could replicate. It was the unmistakable scent of a feral mutant and it was coming from her. She smelled like grass and flowers. Discreetly, he quickly looked her over before avoiding eye contact once more.

Beyong-Cheol positioned his left crutch as to not get in the way and slightly shifted his weight to his left crutch before holding his hand out for Logan to shake. He looked the latter up and down, taking in his appearance, lack of eye contact and assistive devices. Logan returned the handshake with a very controlled one, then quickly let go. He didn’t want to accidentally break the mans hand.

Getting Althea’s blood pressure under control was Logan’s biggest priority when it came to planning out what foods to buy and what recipes to make. Miso, kimchi, edamame, tofu, fish and seaweed were the the best foods for doing just that. Logan gave another sniff and turned his head left and right, using smell to locate which isles they were in and their general condition.

Yu-Jin observed his strange behaviour with a curious eye. She was going to keep an eye on him.

“It is nice to meet you, Logan. Althea tells me you are different, like my daughter.” Logan tilted his head to the side like a dog, unsure of what he ment. Was he referring to her mutation, or something else entirely?

Sensing his confusion, Althea clarified “mutation.”

“She is animal person, too.” Beyong-Cheol then added, hoping it’d help.

“I know it wasn’t my secret to tell, but I promise you Logan, he’s safe” Logan was proud to be a mutant, but back in his world being a mutant men’t being born with a target on one’s back. The best way to survive was to keep one’s head down and pray that Chuck found them before the mutant hunters did. But in the end it didn’t fucking matter. It never did.

She held out her hand for him to take. He placed his left hand in hers and she squeezed. it was something she did that helped ground him by redirecting the storm in his mind to something else. In this case it was her touch, but he could also temper the storm by creating lists inside his head and repeating them.

Logan bit back a sigh, unclipped his cards and guided her hands to the card that read: angry. He was upset that she had told his secret, and needed his space to calm down. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in then out and repeated the ingredients in his head to help calm the storm miso, kimchi, edamame, tofu, fish, seaweed. Miso, kimchi, edamame, tofu, fish, seaweed..

“I’m sorry. Why don’t you go on ahead? I’ll stay back and talk with Beyong-Cheol, how’s that sound?” She soothed, acknowledging his need for space. Logan let out a grunt, picked up two shopping baskets and walked away.

“I’m sorry, he get’s…” She wanted to make a good impression, but this wan’t going at all how she wanted it to “overwhelmed in public places. But he’s a gentleman, I promise.”

“Is no problem. We have lots of, uh, um - “ he paused and thought hard for a moment. What was that word in English again? Beyong-Cheol turned to his daughter and asked”자폐인을 영어로 뭐라고 부르나요?” she replied “Autistic.”

“Right. We have many autistic customer. Is no problem” Althea didn’t have the heart to correct him. “You follow me, we sit behind the counter.”

His forearm crutches and her cane tip tap tapped on the floor in unison like a song “Your son is very beautiful, but not as beautiful as my daughter.”

She replied with a laugh, following close behind “you blind too? Fucking tragic.”

Beyong-Cheol helped her behind the counter and down onto a chair that he had set up in advance for her visit. “Not blind, just stating fact.”

Logan weaved through the isles with terrifying proficiency. A package of garaetteok was placed into the basket, alongside green onions, leeks, zucchinis, onions, sweet potatoes, mushrooms, anchovies, kelp, scallions, eggs and gochujang.

Logan knew that his status as a mutant wasn’t exactly a secret, but in his civilian attire he managed to look different enough that most humans simply paid him no mind. To them, he was just a yoked dude who looked kinda like the wolverine and that was what he preferred. He knew that Althea ment well, just like Wade, but it wasn’t her secret to tell.

The storm in his mind quieted a little as he placed miso, edamame, tofu, fish, and seaweed into the basket. Logan walked a little to the left, placed the baskets down, rubbed the sore joints in his hands, and sniffed at the various jars of kimchi. He added the low sodium Kimchi into the cart and looked down at what he’d already amassed. Logan did some quick mental math and realized, that even with the added cost of a monthly MetroCard, the prices were low enough that they’d be saving money over time.

Though the longer trip ment that it would potentially be less accessible for Althea and Wade’s already short attention span and general dislike of food shopping would mean that a longer trip would result in Wade simply refusing to go. He made a mental note to run this by them later.

Yu-jin watched him from afar. She greatly disliked conflict, but when it came to the store and her family, all bets were off. She knew right away that he wasn’t the shoplifting type, the body language was all wrong, but he was still acting very strange, almost like an exposed nerve. He also smelled. Did this man not bathe?

Meanwhile, Althea and Beyong-Cheol continued their back and forth.

“My boy is a gentleman. He cooks, keeps the house clean and takes me to all my appointments without being asked.” Althea said, leaning back in the chair and as smug as could be.

“Impressive, but not as much as my daughter. She run store, catch shop lifter, and is a brilliant artist. She draw water deer on the sign outside” Now it was his turn to be smug.

“Aww, good for her. She sounds like such a great girl. But not as great as my boy! Logan was in the military and now he works for S.H.I.E.L.D” She heard Beyong-Cheol sigh and say “yes, yes, you told me this already, many, many times.”

Althea tapped the floor with her cane “And I’ll say it again as many times as I damn well please!”

There were bags of rice piled high on the floor. Sweet rice, long grain, medium grain and ah, there it was, short grain. That was what he needed. He picked up two very large bags and balanced them on his right shoulder. Then he just stood there as if in a trance, completely oblivious to the looks Yu-Jin was giving him by her hiding place near the end of the isle.

His strength is in his arms instead of his legs. Interesting. she thought to herself. Yu-Jin had always been fast and had abnormal leg strength. The mutant specialist in Busan had explained to Yu-Jin and her father that wild mutants always possessed four main things: An enhanced sense of smell, enhanced hearing (though the sensitivity of said hearing differed greatly depending on the sub species), enhanced strength either in the upper body or lower body and a physical trait of their sub species. For Yu-Jin, her prominent fang like snaggle teeth were a very typical trait of water deer subspecies.

This was her first time being around another wild mutant and she found her mind filled with all sorts of questions she was dying to ask. What sub species was he? What were wild mutants called in the west? What was his diet like? Was he a vegetarian like her?

Althea’s blood pressure wasn’t the only issue. Both she and Wade had bad food habits. Althea tended to douse everything in salt, which contributed to her high blood pressure and Wade’s diet was abhorrent. Wade had gotten too damn comfortable with having a healing factor and used it as an excuse to eat whatever he damn well pleased. It was driving him up the goddamn wall.

He needed to make healthy dishes that were low in sodium but didn’t taste like it. Logan glanced at his baskets and let out a grunt. He could hide vegetables in meat paddies and sauces - cut em up small so Wade wouldn’t notice. The low sodium fermented kimchi and chill paste would help with the excess sodium issue. God, pups the both of them.

Logan shook his head and picked the baskets up, they made a strange whining sound due to being made to carry well beyond their limits. Logan was very close to hitting his social limit for the day and decided it was best to leave as he still needed what little energy he had left for the other store he’d passed on the way here.

As he walked toward the checkout, he had noticed a few isles ago that he was being followed, but he allowed it just to see how long she was going to keep at it. She wasn’t too bad, but by god she was very, very loud.

“My boy is wicked strong, he can lift anything” Said Althea, she gestured to what she thought was the direction of the rice but ended up gesturing to the vegetables instead “those bags of rice? He can carry five like they weigh nothing.”

“200 geun of rice on shoulder, 10 li like Xi Jinping” Beyong-Cheol chortled, slapping the counter several times as he did so.

His mirth was short-lived as Logan placed 2 big bags of rice down on the counter as if they weighed nothing, and then picked up his baskets that were so overloaded with weight that they looked very close to breaking.

“You were saying?” Althea’s smug reply rubbed salt onto the wound and Beyong-Cheol chose to wisely stay silent. She was gonna lord this over him for a long time.

With his help, she took her place by Logan’s side. She could feel the negative energy coming off of him in waves and felt terrible for the part she played in making this experience a negative one. She was so proud that he was holding it together and gave his arm a quick rub and a pat to help keep him grounded.

Yu-Jin took her place beside her dad and began to bag the food. Logan slowly placed things onto the counter, grouping the frozen with the frozen, veggies with the veggies, etc, to give her time to properly get everything organized and bagged. After all nothing good ever came from rushing the bagger.

Neither Beyong-Cheol or Yu-Jin had ever seen their baskets in such a state. They didn’t even know it was possible for them to look so abused. Logan said to her in Korean as she glared at him 'you are fast, but very loud. Are your shoes made of cement?'

She snapped back 'inconsiderate beast! You damaged our baskets!'

'Oh..sorry.'

Yu-Jin could tell it was a genuine apology, her people reading skills were second to none. It was clear that it was nothing more than a mistake. She understood how that felt. She had once kicked a massive hole in the wall as a kid while playing indoor soccer with a soft toy ball. The enhanced strength in her legs turned the toy into a weapon of mass destruction.

The landlord lost his shit, her dad chewed her out and she learned to be more careful. It seemed that this strange man needed to learn to be more careful too.

She was also rather taken with Logan. He was the only customer to ever hear her coming and she found that to be very intriguing. What a challenge it was going to be to try and track this man without him noticing.

The very idea made her giddy. God, she couldn’t wait for him to come back soon.

Astonished, Althea clapped her hands together and cried out “Baby, you spoke!”

Logan was still a little upset with her, but the joy in her voice was so infectious that he couldn’t help the small smile that made it’s way across his face. He took her right hand in his and gave it a brief squeeze just like the one she gave him to help calm him.

“Total is $100.00, cash or cred-“ Yu-Jin whispered something to her father in Korean and he backed up a little. She tacked on an additional $75.00 for the baskets Logan damaged, then allowed her father to resume the transaction.

“Um, $175.00, cash or credit?” Beyong-Cheol got his second surprise of the day as Logan pulled out a dark green credit card with the S.H.I.E.L.D emblem embossed in the far right corner and tapped the amount. Althea hadn’t been lying. Her boy really did work for S.H.I.E.L.D.

Coloured in relation to what job they preformed, each independent contractor who worked with S.H.I.E.L.D was given a bank account and card with S.H.I.E.L.D’s personal bank. As the amount paid different from month to month and could vary in currency type, the bank provided excellent service, had the best currency conversion rates in the world and security that was second to none. Each colour of card worked as a quick identifier. Trackers, like Logan, were given a dark green.

Fury had contacted him not too long after he quit his job as a bouncer. They needed help tracking down a missing special agent and only had a single piece of torn fabric of which to work with. Due to his expert tracking ability and super smell, Logan was their first and last choice.

He didn’t know how Fury got his number, but he had, had the feeling that they’d been keeping track of him for quite some time.

The only organization that Logan hated more than the Avengers was S.H.I.E.L.D. In his opinion they were both hypocritical cunts, but S.H.I.E.L.D ranked just a little higher on his shit list due to the power they wielded and their absolute unwillingness to do anything beneficial with it. The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D just sat their with their thumbs up their asses as the X-men were slaughtered, as mutants were hunted, as he was treated like a monster. As far as he was concerned they could both choke.

Fury offered him $10,000. Logan told him to fuck off.

He increased the offer to $20,000. Logan replied “kiss my ass.”

Then he offered $50,000 and Logan got very, very quiet. That was more than a years worth of wages. Combined with the $3000 he got monthly from the TVA, he, Wade and Althea would want for nothing ever again.

Work was sporadic, maybe once or twice a month, never more than that. A minimum of $50,000 for regular cases and $100,000 for VIP. Fury had agreed quickly, almost a little too quickly. But Logan didn’t care. The money would guarantee that his pack would be fed and happy, and if he had to help out some cunts to maintain his packs security then so be it. Pride be damned.

Logan took all the grocery bags on one arm, and then balanced the two big rice bags on his shoulder. He wanted for Althea to say her goodbyes, each additional second feeling like torture.

After what felt like an eternity she finally grabbed onto his arm and together they left. Once outside Althea said “When Beyong-Cheol told me about his feral daughter, the way he spoke of her was just the sweetest thing. He really loves her just like I love you, Logan.” She took his hand and squeezed “I’m sorry, baby. I really am. I promise, it won’t happen again.”

Logan let out a soft coo in reply, and Althea knew that she had been forgiven.

———-

This was going to be harder than he thought.

Logan’s brain and nervous system was screaming at him to hurry home and isolate in a dark, quiet room; to surround himself with the safe scents of his pack. But he made a promise to himself and he intended to keep it.

Logan took a deep breath and entered the store. A bell rang out as soon as the door opened, signalling his arrival. He fought to keep from flinching from the loud sound and had to fight the overwhelming urge to turn the sound function off on his headphones completely. But he couldn’t do that. If he couldn’t hear, he’d be putting himself and Althea in danger. He needed to hear her and the world around him at all times until they returned home.

Althea was stunned “you want to keep shopping?” She sounded a bit concerned when she asked “are you sure?”

He held out the communication card that said yes.

“Alright, then. Lead the way.”

The shop smelled like a warm summers day and patchouli. The shop keeper, a middle aged woman with kind eyes and thick red hair, greeted them “welcome. Do you need help finding anything?”

Logan shook his head no and lead Althea through the small store. The scent of patchouli was almost offensive to his sensitive nose, and he couldn’t help but wonder to himself why the shop keeper felt it necessary to flood the store with it. When humans did things he didn’t understand he simply would say to himself ‘must be a human thing’ and tried not to think too hard about it.

He found the horse. It felt very soft and was a fairly good size, not too big and not too small.

Even though she knew he wouldn’t answer, Althea couldn’t help but ask “what are you looking for?” He passed her the plush horse and she felt it’s features with practiced hands, going over every inch of it just like she did Logan’s face on the first day they had met.

“Oh, Logan, it feels wonderful. Laura is going to love it” that praise made Logan feel proud as a peacock. He let her hold onto it as he wanted to get her scent as well as Wade’s scent all over it. They were a pack, and there was nothing more relaxing than having the scent of your pack with you as you drifted off to sleep.

The blanket was a pastel purple and made of cashmere, it was also very big. Althea was old, it was an uncomfortable fact that Logan had to come to terms with. She got cold easily, she moved a little slower sometimes and she needed help with the stairs. He hoped that this blanket would at least help keep her warm and comfortable while she lounged in her favourite recliner.

As for Wade, Logan opened the body butter tester and was pleased to find that it was very thick and didn’t leave a disgusting greasy residue behind. Wade’s skin required daily moisturisation, from his head to his toes, due to the thick scarring that covered his body which was a bit of a chore in and of itself and it was also very expensive. Logan grabbed three containers of the lavender scented butters and carried them and the blanket to the checkout.

“I’m gonna guess that the rest of whatever it is you’ve got in your hands is a secret?” Right in one. Logan often found himself amazed by her wisdom and intuition. Despite being blind she just had this uncanny ability to read him and Wade like a book. It was incredible.

He responded with a grunt and placed the items down, he avoided eye contact and rubbed his hands together as he tended to do when he was out in public and stressed.

Thankfully the shop keeper wasn’t an idiot. She scanned the items without saying a word and placed them into a bag. In a clear voice she said, gesturing to the terminal “that will be $2,500.45. You can swipe or insert.”

As he typed in his pin, Althea did a double take “what the hell are you buying, Logan?”

Logan hadn’t even looked at the prices. When they had first passed by the store, the word that had come to mind was ‘high-end’. It was why it had caught his eye in the first place. Logan never liked spending money on himself, but when it came to his pack they deserved nothing less than the best.

He held out the card that said happy and slipped the bag onto his already filled arm. The shop keeper found the entire situation strange, but chose to keep silent.

“Happy? What the fuck does that mean?” Her boy was as tight as a bowstring, and the furthest thing from happy right now. For the entire trip home, Althea had wracked her brain trying to decipher what Logan had been trying to hint at.

It wasn’t until they returned home, and the groceries had been put away, that she had fnally understood.

Logan approached her as she lounged in her recliner and covered her with something very soft and very big. She ran her hands over the material and said in awe “oh, baby, you didn’t” she knew exactly what this was. Cashmere. Something she had always dreamed of having but could never afford.

She pulled him close and enveloped him in a big hug “thank you, baby” then rested her head on his shoulder and whispered to god “lord, I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but thank you so much for giving me my boys.”

Chapter Text

Taught as a bowstring and lost in his thoughts, Logan cleaned the dishes with a little more force than necessary. From his place in the kitchen, he could hear Wade repeating dialogue as he and Althea watched The Golden Girls and Althea’s laughter that followed. The noise of the TV and their voices slowly fed into his growing agitation.

The last few tracking missions for S.H.I.E.L.D had been a fucking disaster. Under the bullshit guise of helping train new trackers, Logan had been saddled with a small group of three human soldiers utterly unremarkable in almost every single way except for an expertise with guns and a small aptitude at tracking. Even though he preferred to do things by himself, go at his own pace and do his own thing, Logan eventually relented and did his best to help train them.

But that was when shit started going sideways.

At first, the jabs and insults didn't bother him too much. They were juvenile, overused and uninspired, shit he could tune out and ignore. After all, being ribbed and insulted was just part and parcel of being in the military.

But then the insults got a little too personal and increased in intensity.

Walking into a room allowed Logan to get the scent trail of every person who’d been in it within a 72 hour window. Certain scents were stronger than others, usually due to either spending more time within the room, or the use of perfumes and cologne’s. When it came to older scents, the outdoors, or trying to find one scent out of many, it required him to get on all fours, nose to the ground, and start throughly sniffing through the entire area.

They called him dog, mongrel, freak. Would make barking noises and laugh whenever he’d run on all fours after picking up a scent trail. All fours felt more natural and allowed him to run faster. Yet, for some reason he simply couldn’t understand, they treated this as if he was preforming some comedy routine. When trying to teach them how to track they weren’t very receptive. Typical wet behind the ears new blood. it was like trying to teach a brick wall.

Logan’s cleaning became more frenzied as his anger began to grow. So fucking asinine! I’m not a goddamn dog! he placed the washed plate into the drying rack with way too much force I’m a mustelid! Fucking, mustelid! How is this so fucking hard for humans to comprehend!?

Unaware that that he was being overly loud, and that Althea and Wade had turned off the sound and were now focusing on him, Logan continued to angrily clean, all while he mentally fumed and continued to work himself up.

Eventually the humans settled on calling him Animal. Sometimes he’d slip into his feral mindset when tracking, it allowed him to ignore everything else and focus solely on the task at hand. However, occasionally, he’d get distracted by a rabbit or a mouse, and his feral instincts would kick in and he’d chase after it. It wasn’t something he had control over, it just happened.

He loathed it when people called him an animal. It was incredibly disrespectful and as much as he wanted to scream at them and demand they never call him that, Logan simply decided it wasn’t worth it, pushed his anger down and allowed it to fester like a bad wound. Just like he always did.

Not an animal. I am not a fucking animal. I am not a fucking animal! I’m not - he stopped, Wade’s Pinkey Pie mug in hand, and realized that the apartment was quiet. They were probably looking at him. He didn’t want to be perceived.

Finally his anger had reached a boiling point and he gripped the mug with too much force causing it to shatter. The glass buried itself deep in his palm and Logan let out a yell and threw the shards into the water and onto the floor.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his jaw and let out an animalistic snarl that raised in volume until it crescendoed into a roar. He clenched and unclenched his shaking hands and shook them, causing flecks of blood to splatter all over the sink and countertop.

It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. No matter how hard he tried to keep his anger in check, how careful he was with handling everything and everyone due to his super strength, how learned he was, how hard he worked, he was always going to be seen as nothing more than a dumb animal.

Shame, upset, anger and sadness wreaked havoc in his mind, uncontrollable and dangerous, like a tsunami. He didn’t even feel as if he had control over his own body anymore. Everything was too loud, too bright, too much.

“IT’S NEVER ENOUGH!” Yelled Logan, as his hands clenched into fists and he brought them up and over his head.

“LOGAN! Wade cried out.

Logan froze as Wade’s hands wrapped around his own, preventing them from making contact with the countertop. His eyes were wide and unfocused and it took a long moment for Logan to come back to himself just enough to comprehend that someone was holding him back.

He stood there, frozen. For one long moment it was as if all the noise had been sucked out of the apartment and the only thing Logan could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. Shame burned deep within and he quickly brought his arms down to free himself from Wade’s grasp. He backed up, overstimulated and overwhelmed.

The too bright lights blinded him, he blinked several times then averted his gaze all together - using his hands to try and block out the light. The sound of Wade and Althea’s voices were so tremendously loud that all he could manage was an upset noise before rushing to the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

——-

Anger.

It’s something he’s always struggled with. Before the incident, he used to wear his anger like an armour, pushing everyone away. It was protection and it was safe. There was a part of him that felt that if he allowed people to get too close, if they became his everything, then it’d hurt all the more when they inevitably got tired of him and threw him away.

His handlers were the only ones he allowed to get close, but even then there was a tiny part of him that never accepted them into his heart completely; a tiny part that stayed hidden in the darkest corners of his mind, wanting to love them unconditionally but just couldn’t allow himself to. Well, until Wade and Althea came along.

Anger was safety. Anger was survival. Anger made him feel in control.

Until it didn’t.

Then the incident happened and he began to associate anger with danger; anger with Weapon X. Weapon X killed those humans. Weapon X disobeyed Charles. Weapon X got the X-Men killed. So, he pushed it deep down inside until it would explode spectacularly thus creating immense shame within and then the cycle would begin anew.

Logan slowly backed away from the door then began to frantically pace within the safety of the dark bedroom. The darkness was so calming when he felt like this, like a blanket of safety and security for the raging storm in his mind.

Negative thoughts began to consume him, the voices of people long past echoed in his mind like a broken record. He clenched and unclenched his hands, his claws partially extended and retracted as he did so.

’You are an adult, Logan, act like it! No more of these tantrums, do you understand?’

’Christ, Logan. What the fucks your problem? Can’t you behave for once?’

’This is why no one can stand you, you fucking animal! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING!'

His sensitive hearing picked up on the voices of Wade and Althea. Logan backed up into the corner of the room, his back hitting the wall, and he slid down it, knees to his chest, and forced himself to listen.

“All the mugs in his house” he heard Wade say, sounding so wretched. The water in the sink sloshes a little and he hears the tink tink of bits of mug shards being taken out of the water and picked up off the floor “all the fucking mugs in this house…why mine?”

There’s the sound of Althea’s cane tapping the floor as she walks toward Wade and the rustle of clothes as Althea lays a hand on his person to comfort him. “he didn’t do it on purpose, Honey. It was an accident.”

“I don’t care!” Wade grounds out. Logan hears Althea gasp a little as Wade rejects her touch as he always tends to do when he’s in a bad mood. Althea shuffles away, leaving Wade alone with the shards of his mug.

The thunderstorm in his mind becomes a heavy rain. He’s a little calmer now, but exhausted. White hot shame eats away at him as he forces himself to listen to Wade’s pain. It wasn’t just a cup, it was a precious gift from Vanessa. A memory.

”Gave me this on our first year anniversary” he gave a wistful smile “To: my ADHD coked up fiend” Wade said with a grin as he showed Logan the mug.

Logan isn’t stupid, he knows there’s a part of Wade that will always love Vanessa. It made him feel jealous and insecure, and then he felt disgusting for having those feelings. Wade saved the world for her. Not for him.

Now he’s spiralling and anxiety and self doubt have moved to the forefront. Logan placed his head in his hands and shook his head, would Wade leave him for her if given the chance? Probably would. After all, all he was really good at was destroying things. He wasn’t a good boyfriend, he was a living weapon and nothing more. Wade deserved better.

“There’s a fine line between guilt and self pity, Logan.” Althea said, curtly “you get ten minutes to wallow, then once you’re done indulging, I want you to ask yourself: Do you care you upset the other person, or is this just about how it made you feel?”

Though it was difficult trying to think through the heavy rain in his mind, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what had happened. It was difficult, because when he had a meltdown, his memory of what occurred was always messy and hard to recall. Logan wrung his hands, trying to get rid of the excess energy within.

Althea realized that while physically he was an adult, emotionally, Logan was just a scared little boy desperate for love and acceptance.

“Whenever you feel the anger coming on, isolate here until you’re calm enough to talk. Then we’ll talk through it “ the last part was not a suggestion.

“But, if that doesn’t work, then go to the gym, tussle with Wade, go for a walk or go to the fucking roof and scream till your throat is raw. Learn to identify your triggers, Logan, work with yourself- work with us to prevent this from happening again.

She took both of his hands in hers, squeezed and repeated the instructions, simplifying them to make them easier to remember “isolate, identify, calm, talk. Understand?” she clipped the leash to his collar. Logan squeezed her hands back and committed her orders to memory.

Logan let out another sigh, he felt was so exhausted. The rain in his mind was now a heavy wind, the kind that rips the leaves off of trees with a howl. He hears the door open and he stiffens then hates himself for it. Althea wasn’t dangerous, she wasn’t going to hurt him. She was mother, and she was kind.

“Lotta chances to deal with whatever’s been bothering you before you exploded, Logan” Althea said as she entered the bedroom. Muscle memory allowed her to quickly find her side of the bed without the use of her cane, she sat down and waited.

Althea didn’t need to say how disappointed she was. He could feel it, it was in the way she spoke and it was written all over her face. He felt so ashamed. Logan padded up to her on all fours, rested on his haunches and placed his hands in hers.

The stress of everything had caught up with him and made it hard to find his words. He spoke very slowly, his voice like molasses. “I…gripped…Wade’s…mug…too tight. It…cut me…n’I got…mad…that I broke…it. Got mad…that….I was…in pain..” Logan’s relationship with pain was complicated. If he had control over it then he loved it, but if it was out of his control or was done without consent, then he hated it.

“But that’s not all. There’s something else.” A statement, not a question.

For one long moment Logan said nothing then, words just poured out, full of frustration “m’not….an….animal. Not…..dog. Mustelid.”

“I know you’re not.” Althea inwardly sighed as she thought hard about what Logan was trying to communicate to her. It broke her heart that both her boys were in such bad places mentally. She wanted to help, she wanted to understand, but none of what Logan said was making any sense to her “I'm sorry Baby, I don’t understand.”

Logan didn’t know how to explain to Althea how insulting it was to feral mutants to call them the incorrect animal subspecies. Feral mutants took their subspecies extremely seriously and to mislabel a feral the incorrect subspecies was a huge no no. Logan felt being called an animal was extremely insulting. Though some feral’s, like Victor, embraced it, Logan knew it for what it was. It was far easier to treat someone lesser than, when you didn’t see them as a human or an equal. Seeing them as animals made it easier to justify terrible things.

“Not…dog. Mustelid. Not same. Very….different. Insulting” he sounded like a fucking idiot and it made him feel mad. He could tell that his ability to speak was dwindling as it tended to do when he got like this, which would eventually leave him reliant on his communication cards. Fucking great.

Althea gave his hands an awkward pat “It sounds like what made you mad is…very complicated. So, I’m gonna leave you alone and let you calm down. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be in the living room with Wade. We’ll wait for you, ok? Remember, ten minutes.”

With one last squeeze, she let go of his hands and left the room. Logan watched her make her way back to the couch, and his heart hurt as Wade sat down beside her, holding a paper towel bundle of what he could only assume was what was left of the mug and laid his head on her shoulder.

He needed time to think about what he wanted to say, and to do that, he needed silence and a safe, comfortable, space. On all fours he padded over to his nest and curled around Pup. He laid there, staring at nothing, and lost in thought. Allowing his body and mind to recover.

Slowly, but surely, the heavy wind within his mind gave way to a gentle breeze.

—-

Wade was sitting on the far left on the couch, his head resting on Althea’s shoulder and Puppin’s in his lap. Her hand was in his and he looked absolutely miserable. The pieces of Wade’s cup were resting on the table in a little bundle of paper towel.

“M’sorry for destroying your favourite mug, Wade.” Logan said as he sat down on Althea’s right. He looked down, hands clasped on his lap and gaze focused on the floor.

Wade let him speak, but refused to look his way. He snapped out an “it’s fine.”

The loss of his favourite mug had hit Wade hard and Logan desperately wanted to rub noses with him, to really make Wade understand that he was so very sorry but…he knew that Wade needed his space so he held himself back “no, don’t…say that. I hurt you, n’m’sorry, Darlin’.

Wade didn’t reply.

“What did you mean when you said ‘not dog, mustelid?”

Logan thought very hard for a moment, trying figure out how to explain the issue in a way a non feral mutant would understand “Callin’ a feral the wrong subspecies is extremely insulting. Each subspecies is different, n’to just mislabel them the incorrect subspecies just cus they display a skill that another one has is fucking stupid. S’like with my smell. Canids arn’t the only species that has a good nose, many mustelids do too. M’not a dog.”

Then he quickly added “They’re not even anti mutant, they’re just prejudiced toward feral’s” then his voice trailed off”…I think.”

Logan stopped talking and tilted his head to the side as he tended to do when confused or deep in thought. It was slowly dawning on him that there was a very good chance that they were’t really anti feral, but rather just massive assholes just taking cheap shots because they were too stupid to come up with anything better.

“Who’s ‘they’” Althea asked, sounding very lost.

“The human soldiers I've been saddled with. Fury wants me to train them as trackers. Been trying to get through to them but they just refuse to listen…thought it’s cus I’m a feral but… -“

“Now you’re not so sure” Althea finished for him, he nodded.

“Jus’ felt that no matter what I did, all the humans saw me as was just some dumb animal.” Everyone in the room had come to the same conclusion that Logan’s meltdown could’ve been prevented had he talked about what was bothering him instead of letting things stew.

Feeling petty, Wade let out a great big sigh. “grow a pair and stand up for yourself, for fuck sakes!” Arms still crossed, he turned to face Logan “Fucking being an angry little asshole all because you can’t tell some cunts to eat shit? Unbelievable. Can’t believe Pinky Pie died for this.”

“Wade - cool it” Althea warned.

Logan replied, a tired edge to his voice “don’t really like forcin’ it, Wade. Jus’….think there’s better ways of dealin’ with humans. They’re delicate. Gotta be careful with em.”

Upon mention of the word delicate, Althea whacked his ankles hard with her cane. Logan muttered a quick ‘sorry’.

“Corporal Howlett” Wade rolled his eyes “the kindest UwU in the entire Canadian military. So willing to bend over backwards for cunts but couldn’t be fucked to confide in his family!” Wades anger faltered just a smidge as he saw Logan’s face. It wasn’t hurt that made him hesitate but rather the absence of it. He Let out a harrumph and, taking into consideration Logan’s tendency to eschew anger and violence when dealing with humans sans Fury or the Avengers, said “Malicious compliance is a thing, you fucking fossil. Use it!”

Pretending like he wasn’t giving out advice and trying to be helpful, because he was still mad at Logan thank you very much. Wade turned his head away “If I were you, I’d baby them and carry them so hard that they’d either rage quit or start actually doing their fucking jobs just to get you off their back.”

Logan gave Wade a small smile in reply, then let everything go quiet. He and Wade laid their head on Althea’s shoulder and let their minds wander as they winded down. Logan’s thoughts went right to dinner. Something comforting and easy to digest, filling, delicious and healthy that everyone would like.

He gave Althea’s hand a small squeeze as he decided on congee with sunny side up eggs for eyes, a bacon smile and green onion for hair. Though she wouldn’t be able to see it, Logan hoped that she’d enjoy it regardless.
——

Logan had tried his best to find a replacement mug. He tried the antique shops, second hand stores, and even the vintage and modern collectible shops too.

The man behind the counter pushed his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger and said, very matter of factly “the mug you’re looking for doesn’t exist. It was a custom job.” He was skinny as a rail, smelled weird and was covered in pony merch.

The shop keeper sniffed and cleared his throat “we’ve got some Pinky Pie mugs for sale…in my opinion this one -“ he turned around and took a few mugs off the shelf behind him, they were all organized by pony, and placed two on the table in front of Logan. The first was mostly white with pinky pie jumping for joy, the text ‘cute as a cupcake’ was written below “is the best, because she is indeed cute as a cupcake and best pony.”

He then pointed to the one beside it which was covered in pink, pink stars and had Pinky Pie and Rainbow Dash side by side “this one’s good too, because it also captures her essence. Although the inclusion of Rainbow Dash is questionable because we all know Pinky is best paired with Applejack” he made a tsk sound “foolish designers.”

Essence? what the fuck? Logan’s brows raised in disbelief as the shop keeper continued ranting about how paring Pinky Pie and Rainbow Dash on the mug was a mortal sin because clearly they were not best friends by any means. Logan realized he must’ve been making the wrong face, because the man then responded, completely irate “you must be a Rarity enjoyer. Leave it to Rarityfen to have such shit tastes. Wouldn’t expect someone so uneducated to understand the importance of paring Pinky with the proper mare for her.”

Without even so much as a wave goodbye, Logan turned around and sped walked out of the store and back home, hoping that his healing factor would treat that exchange like trauma and purge it from his memory forever. Sadly, it did not.

Logan had managed to find a Pinky Pie mug, but it wasn’t the exact same. So, here he was, back home and head hung low in defeat. He approached Wade, who was still kinda cross and said “m’sorry, Wade. I tried findin’ a replacement but the weird human said it was a custom job.”

Wade eyed the small gift bag that Logan was holding out for him to take. It was beautifully wrapped and he didn’t quite know what to say. Truthfully, he was mostly over it, the residual grumpiness was mostly just because he felt hurt that Logan didn’t come to him about the bullying.

The mug was pink and covered in streamers. Pinky Pie’s arms were outstretched and she looked happy as a clam. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting every inch. His heart swelled as he realized the effort Logan had gone to, to try and replace his old mug.

“I love it, Lolo. Thanks” his petty little tea starved brain latched onto two words that Logan had said “just curious, by weird human…what do you mean, exactly?”

Wade patted the spot next to him, and Logan sat down. He looked mildly horrified as he recounted his interaction with the brony “n’he smelled n’sounded so fuckin’ weird. I don’t understand, what does Rarityfen mean n’what did he mean by ‘the proper mare for her?’”

With an evil smile, Wade crossed his legs and said “Say, Lolo, are you familiar with the term clopping? And no, I am not talking about the sound a horse makes when it gallops.”

Logan started to sweat and he innocently replied “….no?”

After an hour of destroying what was left of Logan's innocence, Wade said to Logan, who looked absolutely horrified “so, that covers clopping, the Rainbow Dash cum jar, Cupcakes, shipping, and fandom, Got any questions?”

Logan was silent for a very long time, then he let out a very loud “WHAT THE FUCK, WADE?!”

Chapter Text

Dressed in a white dress shirt, glasses, dark green sweater vest, brown slacks, and messenger bag slung over his shoulder, Beast pushed open the door to Wade’s apartment.

Ideally, Beast would’ve preferred Logan had come to him, but knew that it wasn’t the best idea in terms of his mental health surrounding the mansion and the people within, or at least, not yet. The most important part of this visit wasn’t just to help alleviate some of Logan’s pain but to teach and be taught in turn.

The apartment was covered from top to bottom in pop art and various bric-a-brac. It was modest but comfortable, and the personality of the three who lived there shone through every inch. However, amongst the welcoming vibe of the apartment was Logan’s scent of wet dog, musk, and baked goods that coated the entrance, walls, couch, and bedroom. The message was clear: This is my den. This is my pack. Fuck off. A warning unbeknownst to anyone without an animal-like mutation.

Beast nearly chuckled but covered it up with a cough, alerting the pair to his presence. Wade and Logan sat side by side on the couch eating snacks while Aurora Tea Garden Mysteries played on the TV. Logan was in Beast’s hoodie, the sleeves so long that Logan gave up trying to keep them rolled up and simply ate with his claws extended on his left side, skewering apple slices and baby carrots.

His scent has changed since last I saw him. Beast thought to himself How wonderfully strange. it was very unusual for a persons scent to change and only tended to happen in rare instances like sickness or lifestyle changes. He also looked healthier and happier, which was a very nice change from the sickly scent that always seemed to follow his Logan around.

Kurt and Rogue had gone over what happened during their visit. From what they’d described, it sounded like a classic case of dissociation stemming from trauma. Using scent to ground himself explained why the visits had to always occur at the apartment.

Wade was wearing a well worn dark green cardigan with an adventure time shirt underneath, a pair of jeans and pink crocs. He beckoned Beast over with a wave of his hand, but followed it with a finger to the lips “I’m telling you, Lolo, Amanda and David did it. I fucking know they did!.”

When it came to murder mysteries Wade Winston Wilson had a tendency to get extremely invested and took the task of solving crime very seriously, so much so that the only reason why Logan even bothered watching alongside him was just so he could sit and listen to the other passionately go off about shit he couldn’t care less about.

Truthfully, Logan just liked hearing Wade talk and liked it even more when he talked about shit that excited him. That unbridled excitement and passion was the best sound in the world and was something Logan could listen to forever.

As Beast took his place beside Logan on the left side of the couch, placing his messenger bag down in-between his feet, Wade muted the TV, turned his head to face him and said “welcome to the Winston, Howlett, Althea household - Boo Berry. I’d use Al’s last name but no one knows what it is. Hey Peanut, does she have a last name? Wonder what it is. Wonder if its cool or if its one of those last names that doesn’t really vibe with the first name because the parents hated the kid or were just completely stupid. Actually, now that we’re on the subject of shit that’s stupid, have you seen the prices of meat lately? Its absolutely fucking criminal, I mea-“

Wade was cut off by Logan slapping a hand over his mouth and giving him a very loud and very stern ‘stop talking’ look. Logan was in a tight fitted white a-shirt and blue jeans with a plain brown belt. Overtop, he wore Beast’s X-men hoodie as to properly acquaint himself with Beast’s scent.

Logan retracted his claws and held out his hand for Beast to take. Wearing Beast's hoodie had been Wade’s idea and what a good idea it had been. There was no corpse, nor was there a smell fire or gunpowder, there was simply Beast sitting beside him, alive and well.

“Its a pleasure to meet you again, Logan.” Beast said, taking Logan’s hand in both of his and giving a gentle squeeze. There was an absence of dissociation which made Beast feel very relieved.

Logan’s nose twitched. Disinfectant, vanilla and…..lycra? He noticed Beast’s gaze sweep over the table as if searching for something. Cigars probably, Logan mused with a shrug “smokin’ was hurtin’ Althea so I stopped. N’I just haven’t felt the need to pick it up again.”

For years he had tried, and failed, to get his Logan to quit that awful addiction. Tried everything under the sun and nothing had worked - it simply went in one ear and out the other, often accompanied by Logan replying with a ‘what’s it gonna do, Hank, kill me?’ Before letting out a mean bark of laughter.

Beast was so proud “It makes me happier than I can ever describe to hear you say that, Logan.” Beast's compliment made Logan feel very good about himself.

“I suppose the best way to handle this would be to jump right in. To begin, I’d like to take a quick look at your hands” Beast took Logan by the arm and quickly, but gently, rolled up the baggy sleeves. Individually, he turned Logan’s hands over in his and tenderly ran his fingers over the joints and wrist.

Brows furrowed he muttered a quick “It seems you were not exaggerating in the least, Mr.Wilson. How unfortunate.” One of his many regrets was skipping out on a proper physical when Logan had been unconscious at the mansion months ago. Had he not been in such a hurry, he could’ve potentially spared Logan months of pain.

After a few minutes he let go of Logan’s hands and said “I’d like to take a moment to share with you my observations and explain where I think the pain is coming from and how it might be managed best.”

Logan nodded. His Beast had given him a quick run down but he, being the impatient and uncaring little asshole he was back then, hadn’t really given much attention or care to what he had said. But now that he had a reason to care about his health, Logan wanted to learn as much as he possibly could. He owed it to his pack.

“Your bones are too heavy for your ligaments to properly support them. Your healing factor is trying its best to compensate, but everything does have its limits” Beast said, adjusting his glasses.

Logan nodded, he had heard that nearly word for word from his Beast.

Beast took Logan’s left hand in his once more and pointed to each part as he explained “Your hands have it worse than the rest of your body because, unlike the rest of your joints, your hands have no way of resting as they are in constant use.” Seeing Wade’s confusion he then elaborated “walking on all fours greatly eases the strain on his other joints, Mr.Wilson.”

“Furthermore, the constant re-traumatization of the muscle and bone, as you deploy your claws, only adds to further strain and damage. But, as I have observed with our Logan, keeping your claws in for extended periods of time also causes pain, thus creating a vicious cycle.”

Wade had gone completely quiet, which was strange. Even more so was the fact that he was giving Hank the focus that he only reserved for things he felt were very important. Logan had to fight the urge to blush.

“Thankfully I have a gift for you Logan, that should help immensely” Beast let go of Logan’s hand once more and reached into his messenger bag. Instinctively, Logan flinched. This reaction left him feeling puzzled. Why’d I do that?

Beast pulled out a pair of compression gloves. They were black and rather unassuming.

Logan asked “what are they?”

Beast slipped the first glove onto Logan’s hand and then helped with the second, slowly slipping into teacher mode “compression gloves. They work by applying constant, gentle pressure to the hands and fingers which improves circulation and will help alleviate stiffness and pain. You’ll also find another function as well which I think you’ll find most exciting!”

They looked like fingerless gloves worn just above the wrist and were snug but didn’t feel too tight. Logan lifted his hand and turned it ever so slightly, allowing the light to hit it and revealed a strange honeycomb like pattern that covered its entirety. There were three discreet slits in the knuckle area for his claws. A slight, comforting warmth radiated across the entirety of his hands and it felt wonderful.

“This is…great. Who made them?” Logan asked, genuinely curious.

"The compression gloves were made in collaboration with Stark Industries. Once we explained your plight they were more than happy to help.” Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Logan bit back some choice words. It was no secret that he held a great amount of disdain for the Avengers and by extension, Stark Industries, but for reasons he truly didn’t understand Wade loved them, so he kept silent not wanting to sour the mood. Stark never does shit for free. What’s the catch?

Beast then added, excitement rolling off of him in waves “After James Rhodes became paralyzed, Mr.Stark began working on assistive technology. This technology has helped millions of people around the world. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Logan mentally counted to three, gave Hank what he hoped was a convincing fake smile and said “uh, yeah” and there it is, only cared cus it affected him. Cunt.

“Jus’curious…why didn’t Forge do it?” He didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but the idea of wearing any stark tech gave him the…what was that word Wade always used? Ah, right, the ick.

"His earlier interaction with Mr.Wilson left him quite unwilling to aid in future projects regarding your person.”

One look at Hank’s face told Logan all he needed to know. He turned his head toward Wade and gave him the stink eye “what the fuck did you do?”

Wade rolled his eyes and said "christ, it was just a little light threatening.”

“Wade…” Logan said in warning.

“Look, all I did was threaten to shoot him if he didn’t help. I wasn’t gonna do it! Fucking scouts honour and all that shit. Its not that big of a deal, he's just being a little bitch.”

Both Beast and Logan let out a whispered “Jesus Christ…”

“We’ve talked about this, Wade. Ya can’t keep threatening people, its not ok!” Said Logan in a tone that a parent would use when scolding a child. In reply, Wade leaned over and tied the long sleeves together in a knot then sat back, smug as could be.

Logan looked down, lifted his arms and shook them, causing the knotted sleeves to bounce a little. He said, unimpressed “real fuckin’ mature.”

“I believe its worth mentioning that none of this would have been possible without Wade’s help. He has been a fountain of knowledge” Beast said in an effort to deescalate the situation.

Logan slipped the hoodie off, stood up and tossed it onto the couch. With narrowed eyes he muttered still trying to keep his tone firm even though his heart felt ready to burst with gratitude “s’that so?”

“All the work I do for this house!” Wade dramatically placed a hand over his heart and wildly gestured with the other as he stood and faced Logan.

“You don’t do shit.”

A dramatic gasp “I slaved over a hot glock for hours yesterday!” Wade harrumphed “No one appreciates me in this fucking house!”

Their voices slowly faded into the background as Beast's thoughts consumed him.

Why was this Logan able to do something that our Logan was never able to? What was he getting from Wade and Althea that our Logan wasn’t getting from us? Hank pondered as he looked around the rather modest apartment from where he sat as if trying to find a clue.

The sound of someone getting thrown to the floor broke Beast from his thoughts. He looked over to see Wade pinning Logan. Logan’s eyes were blown and he was smiling in a way that could only best be described as predatory, showing off his sharp canines like little trophies, as he scratched and punched Wade. Wade returned each punch with one of his own and soon both men were beating the shit out of each other, laughing and smiling all the while.

Wade grabbed Logan by the face and pulled him close, Logan bit his nose and let out a playful growl. “ARGH! You dirty bitch!” Wade cried as he tossed him. Logan let out a happy chirp as he went airborne, hit the ground with a thud and rolled to break his fall.

’No hurt!’ ’happy! happy! happy!’

Beast had seen his Logan like this before. Logan had gone feral. Time was of the essence, if he were to help Wade, he had to restrain Logan now before anyone else got hurt.

’Play!’ full of energy and feeling light as a feather due to the compression gloves, Logan let out a loud and happy chirp.

Beast stood up and quickly made his way toward where Logan was crouched on all fours and promptly restrained him. Logan let himself dangle in Beast’s grip like an oversized cat for a moment, before looking up at him and making a curious sound.

’Play?’

Logan truly did not understand why he was being restrained. The only time he had ever been restrained during a play fight was when he got a little too carried away and almost hurt Althea. Althea wasn’t here, nor had anything in the house been broken so why was Hank doing this? Had the rules suddenly changed? Did he do something wrong?

Logan let out a sad sound. Wade had said that it was ok to bite him during play, but maybe the rules had changed. Instinct drove most of Logan’s feral mindset, but it was often at odds with the rules people around him would instill.

“Are you alright, Mr.Wilson?” Beast asked, concerned.

The consequences for being too rough during play back in his world had hurt. He remembered every yell, every hit, every punishment. Logan bowed his head, he didn’t feel like playing anymore.

’Sad.’ ‘Bad’.

It had taken a lot of work for Wade to help Logan’s feral self unlearn the toxic shit that his X-men had drilled into him. Seeing his man just dangling in Hank’s arms defeated and sad, made him feel very mad. He stuck Hank with an awful glare.

“You didn’t do anything wrong” Wade soothed as he took Logan from Beast's arms and placed him back on the floor. He gave Logan’s mutton chops a few scratches before addressing Beast “so, you wanna explain why you felt the need to restrain my Lolo?”

“He bit you” Beast said flatly.

“And? Who gives a shit?” Wade snapped back.

Calmly, Beast explained “I do. It was after the incident with Marie that we started becoming more worried and cautious. His anger, especially when in a state of vulnerability, was volatile to say the least, and as we do not possess healing factors, precautions had to be taken for everyone’s safety. Furthermore, we noticed that when he became more…excited in his feral state, he had a tendency to hurt others accidentally. Do not think for a moment that we took any enjoyment out of it, because I assure you, Mr.Wilson, we did not.”

Wade rolled his eyes.

Logan shook his leg, overstimulated and angry. All the joy he had felt had been sucked out, leaving him with that gross feeling of wrongness. He hated it. It just wasn’t fair! Wade rolled up his pant legs and patted Logan on the head “so….you guys thought the solution to that was to punish him for being happy and excited? Jesus Christ.”

Beast replied “it wasn’t about punishment, Mr.Wilson, it was about boundaries. You have to remember, most mutants lack a healing factor and an injury that you regard as a mere annoyance can be catastrophic for another.” As if on cue, Logan slammed his hand down on the floor, like a child stomping its foot, causing a loud bang to echo throughout the apartment, startling Beast.

“See, the problem is that you see Logan’s feral self as some mindless, angry animal, but he’s not.” Wade said, as he gestured to Logan “he can understand you just fucking fine. Logan knows who he is, but do you?"

Beast's eyes narrowed “I do not appreciate -“

“Listen…I get it….I do.” Wade said as he gave Beast a look of understanding “having people look at you like a monster, having to cover up every time you leave the fucking house, I get it. But my guy, you are WAY too obsessed with acting human. Its like you keep yourself in this tiny little box -“ he used his hands to mime a box “because you care way too much about what other people think. Hank, you gotta let go and just embrace who you are, because the humans are gonna hate you no matter what, and the mutants who give you shit for it are always gonna be judgmental little cunts.”

Beast blinked, unsure what Wade was getting at “I can assure you I am secure in my self image and how I view my mutation, Mr.Wilson” he said, frostily. Whether it was Wade he was trying to convince, or himself, he didn’t know. All Hank knew was that, deep down inside, the thought that his mutation would one day evolve and his mind would slowly slip away; that he’d become an animal and operate on base instincts and nothing else, scared him.

Wade pinned Logan on his back and placed his hands on Logan’s sternum shimmying him back and forth like a ferret in a tub of dry macaroni. The one tried and true way of cheering up an unhappy feral Logan.

Logan let out a happy chirp. As he did this, Wade said “what you and Colossus said months ago, when Logan was sick, about him being outside of himself, and not understanding…I thought maybe it was you guys being dicks, but I think its just good ol’ projection.”

’Play!’

“Because you need him to be mindless when he’s like this, because it makes you feel better about your choice to never give in. Lets you justify it, in here” he said, tapping his head “and helps you pretend it isn’t exhausting work, because you’re scared of what might happen if you let go. Just be yourself while you’re here, I promise we won’t tell. Take it from one self hating mutant to another, you’re not fooling anyone.”

Before Beast could reply, Wade slapped his thighs with the energy of a Midwestern middle aged man ready to let his guests go and got up “I’mma go grab Logan a snack while you play with him, ok?” Snacks were the fastest way to bring Logan out of his feral mindset and back to himself. Neither he nor Wade understood why this was the case, nor were they particularly interested in finding out.

This, of course, was not so much an ask as it was an order. Unsure of what to do, Beast just stared at Logan who continued to lay on his back, waiting to be shimmied. They stared at each other for a bit, and then Logan let out an unhappy sound.

’Play!!!!!!’

Wade knew what each and every grunt, growl and snarl ment like the back of his hand.“He wants to be shimmied.”

“I am aware, though I am cautious, you must understand. Roughhousing with Logan can be a dangerous and often painful affair.”

“You never played with him? Holy fuck, you guys are so dumb. That poor Logan. Listen, he’s got his claws in, he isn’t gonna hurt you.” He muttered, “Imagine giving up all that fun, couldn’t be me” Wade opened the freezer and took out a bag of pre cut frozen pumpkin pieces sprinkled with cinnamon.

“Your definition of fun greatly differs from mine” Beast replied.

As if sensing his reluctance, Logan let out a frustrated growl and stuck him with a glare as if to say 'hurry the fuck up, you stupid man and shimmy me!’

From his place in the kitchen Wade let out a bark of laughter.

Beast put his hands on Logan's sternum and shimmied him back and forth, careful not to be too rough. This, however, was not good enough for the feral man and Beast could swear he heard former let out a ‘tsk’. Something primal within rose to the surface and Beast let himself give in.

He pressed down a little harder while letting out a growl. Logan returned the growl and both bared their teeth, testing the other to see who’d fold first.

“Not satisfactory enough for you? Then take this!” Beast let out another growl and shimmied Logan back and forth in a rough manner. To his surprise, Logan let out a satisfied chirp. Ah Beast thought to himself as he began to calm he’s using the game as a way to spread his scent on the apartment floor. Smart.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Wade sat down beside them on the floor and opened the bag. Logan’s nose twitched and suddenly the shimmying took a backseat to the delicious smells of cinnamon emanating from the ziploc. Beast lifted his hands, allowing Logan to rush over to Wade.

“Good job not mutilating our friend, my grumbly grumbly monster.” Wade gave him a kiss and rubbed his cheeks with his hands. Logan let out a growl which was then promptly cut off as Wade slipped a piece of frozen pumpkin into his mouth “oh yes, who hid my goddamn knife and hasn’t shown me where it is, that’s right, you did!”

Beast’s gaze dropped to the floor as he was lost deep in thought. Was it really that easy? Was that all it took? Just some positive reinforcement, praise and patience?

Logan thrived over the praise and, with each nibble, came back to himself.

“Seriously, where did you hide my knife?” Wade pressed.

Logan took the bag then took a few more bites before answering in-between chews “under the couch.”

“Fucking why?”

Logan shrugged. Fuck if he knew.

“….no no no, doing impulsive shit is my thing, Peanut.” He laid on his stomach and reached under the couch, patting around blindly. Eventually his fingers felt the familiar touch of the knifes handle “Jesus, you really jammed it under there.”

And there it was. It wasn’t the money, nor the home, but how Wade and Althea accepted all of Logan for who he was, all the good and the bad. They fought, bickered and loved. They understood a key fundamental of Logan that not a single person within the mansion had been able to grasp, despite living side by side for years with him: feral!Logan wasn’t something to be feared, but rather something to be nurtured and cared for.

Logan was Wade’s moral centre, and Wade was his emotional centre. Both of them like yin and yang, two sides immortal and undying, joined in complete harmony. “Does he often do that, hide things I mean?”

Wade sat up with his baby knife in hand, inspecting it with a slight frown as he spoke.“Sometimes when he’s feral he’ll hide shit. Always small stuff though, never anything important, like a knife or a croc charm or whatever. If I’m being honest, its kinda annoying.”

Beast pondered for a moment, his gaze went to the side and he rubbed his chin “If I’m not mistaken it sounds to me like food cache instinct. All mustelids have a tendency to hide food away for later, sometimes this can extend to non food items as well, as you’ve noticed.”

Being on his own and ostracized, Wade realized that Logan’s access to food must’ve been extremely sporadic and there must’ve been times where he had to go without. It made his heart hurt to think of how much his Lolo suffered before he came into his life and brought him home.

“But, m’not hungry anymore” Logan mumbled before quickly becoming lost in his thoughts. His head slightly bowed and his legs criss crossed as he munched on his pumpkin pieces, muttering to himself. Wade and Beast caught the words ‘flooring’, ‘paint’ and ‘stairs’ in-between bites.

Deciding to leave Logan to his thoughts, Wade said to Beast “You were right, Hank. The gloves really did help. You know, you really should be honoured.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He went feral really, really fast and he doesn’t do that unless he feels safe and relaxed. You’re the only X-man, aside from Laura, that Logan’s trusted enough to go feral around. He really, really, trusts you, Hank.” Wade laid a hand on Hank’s arm and gave it a pat.

Beast felt awful. They had treated their Logan terribly and had taught him to hide a part of himself that embodied all the positive aspects within. That was so terribly unfair of them to put him through that. But here it was, a second chance; a chance to do things right and he wasn’t going to waste it.

“I’d love for you two to visit the mansion. It doesn’t need to be a long visit” Beast began “just long enough for a proper checkup, blood draw and for the others to say hello. They would all love to meet you, my boy…” Logan was snapped out of his thoughts and seemed amenable to the suggestion but…

“We’d love to, but its just not possible right now.” Wade scratch the back of his neck, trying to best explain “the whole mansion is a trigger. We’re trying to get people to meet here in groups so Lolo can get used to their scents in a safe place so his mind doesn’t go all fucky, but its slow going.”

With a sigh, Logan said “When Wade was carrying me out that day…all I could see was walking corpses n’blood. I smelled it, Hank. M’smellin’ shit that isn’t even there. I don’t understand.”

“I’d like to help, my boy. But I can’t do that if I don’t know the whole story.”

Wade and Logan shared a look. Wade nodded, and gestured for him to go ahead. Only two people had been told the whole story: Wade and Althea. And now there would be a third.

Logan took a big breath in, then exhaled. He closed his eyes and readied himself “March 23, 2003. It was usually cold. I remember cus the air smelled sharp n’Jubilee had her coat done up. She…she never did that” he took a deep breath to steady himself “that day, Scott tried to get me to wear the costume…that stupid fucking thing….I told him…told everyone they looked fuckin’ ridiculous n’left to go get drunk. Couldn’t have them thinkin’ I wanted to be there…” He looked so ashamed and looked at the floor, unable to meet Beast’s eye.

The last words ever spoken to them had been an insult and it had haunted him ever since.

“When I…when I got home that night…shitfaced from the bar…I saw the fucking Friends of Humanity laughing - having a beer. They set the mansion on fire n’killed everyone, Hank. You, Jubilee, Kurt, Rogue, Storm, Charles…all dead n’stacked like wood on the front lawn, n’they were celebrating. So proud of themselves n’what they’d done” Logan said, his voice shaking. An in-between of a sob and a growl worked its way from his throat.

“I-I got so mad. I saw red. I snapped n’I…something took over me n’I just kept killing. I could’t stop, didn’t want to. When I came to, I was claws deep in the belly of a pregnant woman.” Logan finished and let out a shaky exhale. Disgusted with himself, Logan covered his face with his hands.

Beast took Logan’s hands in his and moved them away from his face. His voice was so soothing and so kind “Logan…you’ve experienced unimaginable trauma. My boy, you must give yourself grace, because the fact that you are talking with me now, letting me touch you and are staying mentally present though it all, shows me that you are making incredible strides. We are so proud of you.”

“I think that wearing something with a familiar scent, like you did today, and having Wade present would hel -“ Logan interrupted “what if I dissociate when I’m there?”

“Then you dissociate and I, and the others, will do everything we can to help you. It will be ok, my boy. You will be ok.” Beast’s voice was so soothing like hot chocolate on a snowy day.

“I’d….like to try” whispered Logan. He was very nervous, but between Wade and Beast he knew he had nothing to worry about. As long as he had them by his side at the mansion, he’d be ok.

Wade enveloped him in a crushing hug “I’m so proud of you, Lolo!”

At some point during their earlier play fight, the remote had slipped off the couch and fallen to the floor. Mary wandered into the living room area, her paw hitting the volume button as she walked past on her stubby little legs.

‘We know he and Amanda had been working together the last five years and the police confirmed at least nine phoney loans. Kotkin was very good at leaving corrupted files behind to obscure his trail. The police think he committed another murder, besides the three he knows we know about.'

Wade whispered into Logan’s ear “Fucking called it."

Chapter Text

Logan was wearing a dark blue tight fitted shirt with a brown leather jacket over top, dog tags, jeans, a pair of well worn dark brown boots and compression gloves. His noise canceling headphones had been left at home at the behest of Wade who promised him that he wouldn’t need them for their date.

Wade was wearing a red hoodie overtop a Hawaiian shirt, a pair of jeans and black converse shoes. He was wearing a hat with the hood up to help conceal his face. With Logan’s hand in his, he pointed toward the Zoo’s ticket gate and walked him toward it in excitement. Today was gonna be awesome.

Wade and Logan’s relationship could best be described as yin and yang; two opposites coming together to form a perfect whole. Logan was organized, Wade was messy. Logan preferred things planned out in advance while Wade preferred spontaneity, and most obvious of all to anyone who had spent more than five minutes within their presence: Wade was the talkative one and Logan the listener. This was all fine and dandy, but Wade was craving more. He wanted Logan to talk endlessly about something for once.

He knew Logan wasn’t a talkative guy, not a single Wolverine really was. But, deep deep down, Wade knew that Logan had a lot to say, all he needed was a little push. So, Wade decided that the best way to go about it would be to engage Logan in one of his special interests. Because nothing got people more yappy than talking about something they loved.

Cooking, literature, music, woodworking and animals. Logan expressed his emotions through each dish he cooked, the love and care could be tasted in each bite. He was an avid reader and went through books like crazy, getting them either from little free libraries or second hand. He was a very good singer, could play the guitar and loved Rock and Country music and he could fix and build anything. When asked where he had learned these skills, Logan had explained that he’d picked them up throughout the years. As for woodworking, Logan claimed that it was considered an essential skill way back in the 1800’s alongside darning. (Lol ok old man)

But it was animals that Logan loved the most. Wade saw it in the way Logan woke up early to listen to the birds, and how he doted on and fed the stray kittens behind their apartment. How he interacted with Mary and quietly gushed over the dogs he saw when he took her for walks. He loved bugs too, and took the time to carefully move each and every insect he found in the apartment outside instead of killing them.

So, Wade’s plan was simple and it went like this:

Step 1. Buy tickets to the Central Park Zoo.

Step 2. Check the website for the least busy times (before lunch on a weekday) for both the main zoo and the children’s zoo so they could admire the animals and feed them in peace. The less humans that were present, the higher the chance that Logan would be verbal outside the apartment and less overwhelmed.

Step 3: While still on the website, pre plan the route that they would take within the zoo so as to leave nothing to surprise.

Step 4. Look up animal facts.

Step 5. Proceed to ignore those facts in order to say the dumbest, most incorrect shit, thus forcing Logan to correct him.

Step 6. which then encourages Logan to talk and will hopefully trigger an info dump.

They got to the ticket gate. Logan took out his wallet to pay, only for Wade to lightly slap it down, followed by a stern “put that shit away, it’s on me.”

Logan put his wallet away then signed ’thank you.’

“You’re welcome, Peanut.”

Wade had been born to an abusive piece of shit pedophile father and a deaf mother who wasn’t really all there. She had a completely naive air to her and had stopped developing mentally at around 14, making her extremely easy to manipulate. Wade’s father had taken complete advantage of it. If he told her to stay upstairs in her room all day, she’d do just that because as far as she was concerned, he knew best.

Every bruise, every wound, if she had noticed what her husband was doing to Wade, she did an excellent job of feigning ignorance. As children often do, Wade believed, with all his heart, that his mom truly didn’t know and would one day help him. So, one day he worked up the courage to ask for help.

He told her what his father had been doing, all the heinous shit he’d been put through and how he needed her help. And with that same stupid airy smile on her face, she replied ’your daddy wouldn’t do that’ It had shattered him completely. The abuse continued until he turned 14, at which point he became too old and was promptly kicked to the curb.

But, at least his shitty family had been good for something. ASL was a very useful skill to have and helped him be more inclusive during merc jobs. Just because someone was deaf didn’t mean they deserved to miss out on a funny joke before having a bullet put through their head.

Communication cards worked well with Althea, or when Logan’s mind was scrambled on heavy days or when he dissociated. But with Wade, they were more of a hindrance than a help. With ASL, it allowed Logan to quickly, and effectively, communicate nonverbally.

Logan was a fast learner when it came to languages, something Wade was extremely thankful for because his patience for teaching just wasn’t there. Wade took the tickets and a map. He and Logan went into the Zoo’s entry way and stood off to the side so they wouldn’t be in anyone's way.

“So, I was thinking we start here” Wade said pointing to the ‘Tropic Zone’ area of the map and moved his finger in a clockwise motion as he spoke “in the Tropic Zone, and then to the Temperate Territory and continue moving clockwise until we get to the Penguins and Seabirds, then go to the Central Garden to see the Sea Lions and finish up in the Tisch Children’s Zoo - I hear there’s a petting zoo....lots of shit we could interact with. You cool with this?”

Logan used to be a spontaneous guy, or at least he thought so. He hopped from one underground cage match to the next, never staying in one place for too long and lived day by day and that suited him just fine.

But then Xavier found him, and despite the stability he was offered, Logan continued to come and go as he pleased. Then the bad day happened and after he was given a second chance at life in this new world, Logan grabbed hold of it with an iron grip and refused to let go. Every outing was planned, little was left to chance. Spontaneity brought anxiety and with it potential danger. Wade had told him that was PTSD. Logan disagreed, it was just common sense.

Logan gave a small nod and signed ’yes. Lead the way’.

It was clear that Wade had put a lot of planning into their date and Logan felt very touched. Despite his anxiety of the unknown, he would try and trust Wade. There was no danger, he was with Wade. He needed his mind to fucking relax, just for today.

The Tropic Zone was a beautiful, humid, two story rainforest exhibit. A glass ceiling allowed sunlight through which helped the plants and trees to grow. These plants, of all shapes and sizes, surrounded the raised wooden path that guided visitors through its entirety.

There were frogs, birds, snakes, bats, bugs, butterflies as well as peacocks that were allowed to roam around freely. There were a few humans inside, much to Wade’s disappointment. A little girl ran around screaming her head off while her useless parents stood around with their heads buried in their phones.

Not minding the disturbance in the least, Logan moved to the wooden paths safety rail and leaned in just enough to get a better glimpse of the Scarlet Ibis' and Macaws that hid in the leaves, content to just silently admire.

A lone praying mantis rested on the glass safety rail, not too far away from where Logan stood. Wade stood beside him and said “sooooooooooo I heard that the male mantis rips the lady mantis’ head off after sex.”

Logan shook his head, no. His attention went from the birds to the mantis on the rail. He signed ’It’s the female mantis that consumes the male via sexual cannibalism after intercourse. No one really knows why, but it might be related to nutrition to help with successful reproduction!’

Wade was silent for a moment. Logan was acting like a teacher. Not really what he was expecting, but whatever “that’s really fucked up, Lo.” He kneeled in front of it to get a better look at its tiny, but deadly body. It was a fascinating creature.

Then he quickly lost interest, as Wade often tended to do with most things. His attention was stolen by the butterflies that softly flew around the Tropic Zone. There were a lot of different ones and they were all very pretty. Wade turned from the glass railing to get Logan’s attention and he froze.

Logan stood still, his left arm bent and one finger outstretched. As if by magic, Wade watched as butterflies flocked to Logan like a Disney princess. They landed in his hair, some on his shoulders and a single blue morpho landed on his outstretched finger. He looked so peaceful, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave a very slight smile.

The sunlight that shone through the ceiling bathed Logan in its entirety. Wade couldn’t help but think to himself holy fuck he’s beautiful. I’m the luckiest dude in the multiverse. This was something he could watch all day.

A shriek of terror rang out as the little girl from earlier hit the ground as she tried to get away from the butterflies. She burst into tears.

The spell was broken. Logan snapped out of his trance and with his long legs, moved to kneel beside the fallen child. Wade did a double take, his Logan was approaching a human civilian of his own volition, holy fuck.

She looked up at him with big wet eyes and continued to cry. He signed 'are you ok?’

She didn’t understand, but found the way his hands moved to be funny. She let out a pearl of laughter and he held out his hand to help her up - It was with the same tenderness he used when picking up eggs, as if he was afraid he might break her. A few butterflies landed in his hair once more as he signed, causing the girl to let out another terrified shriek.

This second round of shrieks finally caught the attention of her parents and the other humans. Logan didn’t notice them approaching, his focus entirely on her, but Wade did. Wade moved to stand beside Logan and translated.

“He’s saying that the butterfly's wings are made of chitin which is kinda like keratin. The same protein our nails, hair and cats claws are made of - oh, no shit?” Wade turned to address Logan as he said the last part. “Oh, and that they’re harmless. Geeze kid, you really gotta chill.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing to my child?!” There was fear and anger in her eyes, the mother scooped up her little girl and held her close. Feeding off of her anger and anxiety, the little girl began to cry harder, thus feeding the negative emotion loop between the two. The husband, who didn’t really seem like he knew what to do, stood uselessly behind his wife.

Back in his old world, Logan had heard the tales that parents would whisper to their children of the murderer Wolverine. He had evolved from a simple killer to a tale of caution, used to keep misbehaving children in line. It hurt his heart to see those looks again, especially since he had worked so hard in this world to treat every human civilian with the utmost caution and respect.

Logan unconsciously took a step back and avoided eye contact. This was a mistake he thought to himself as panic began to grow. They could exit the way they came in, or continue forward toward Temperate Territory, which way should they go? Which way would be safest? What should they do? s’all my fault. I should’ve known better.

The butterflies flew away and the birds became silent.

Seeing Logan becoming so submissive out of learned fear, a furious Wade stepped in front of him acting as a buffer. Unhappiness and submissiveness weren’t emotions he wanted to see from his Lolo! Today was supposed to be all smiles. They were fucking ruining it!

Through clenched teeth he ground out “Helping, you frothy bitch! Your kid ate shit because you and your witless wonder were buried in your phones.” he gestured to Logan “getting up his ass for helping your kid and telling her cool butterfly facts? Man, fuck you, you human equivalent of a participation award.”

“Don’t you dare talk to my wife that way!” The man raised his voice to an almost yell causing his daughter to burst out crying once more.

Wade immediately clapped back “I suppose this angry twink is supposed to be your husband?” He looked at the husband “you’re everything I expected, and less. Shut the fuck up, twink. This is between me and your beard.”

The yelling was like a cacophony of sound. Despite the pain, Logan quickly stepped between Wade and the family and gave him a slightly firm shove back. No one had to get hurt today.

He then turned to the humans, head still bowed and signed ’I’m so sorry.’

Wade’s voice rose in upset as he turned his head toward Logan then back to the Karen “sorry? You’re fucking apologizing to them? Fuck no. you did nothing wrong.”

The Karen had a very smug look on her face, she knew as well as Wade did, that in the battle of the public opinion, a family with child accusing a man of sus shit toward her kid would always have their side taken, especially if said man was together with a very disfigured one. Fucking bitch.

Logan then turned to face Wade ’doesn’t matter.’ He hated it when Wade escalated shit or defaulted to violence. These humans had no idea how much danger they were in, and that scared him.

“But, Lolo, they started -“ before he could get the words out, Logan signed, his hand movements stiff, hard and a little bit shaky, his gaze was still focused on the floor betraying the fear he felt ’I said, stop!'

Like a balloon losing its air, Wade deflated with a sigh “Logan…”

Logan continued, his gaze went from the floor to Wade as he looked him dead in the eye ’ You can’t keep fucking doing this every time someone makes you angry. Shit doesn’t always need to escalate!’ He then took Wade’s hands in his and squeezed. Just like Althea did for him whenever he felt angry.

Wade squeezed back. He didn’t want Logan learning the wrong lesson and associating this wonderful place with negativity “you’re right, I’m sorry.”

He bit back a sigh and said to the parents “look, I’m sorry I was being a dick. My boyfriend was just trying to help your kid. He wasn’t trying to take her or do anything bad, ok?”

The wife was still very mad, but before she could start spitting out vitriol her husband leaned in and whispered in her ear “Iris…I think he’s military” then gestured towards Logan’s dog tags with a nod.

So focused on her child and blinded by her anger, Iris honestly hadn’t even noticed. Both she and he realized that this was not a good look. Suddenly the bystanders didn’t feel like allies, they felt like they were the ones being judged.

Now it was Wade’s turn to be smug. Bullying a disabled veteran in America? Bad fucking move. The family folded first, muttering “it’s fine” and getting the fuck outta there as fast as they could. Wade took Logan’s hand and quietly led him over to the exit and into Temperate Territory.

—-

Temperate Territory was a long stretch of several different species and their enclosures. There were: cranes, snow monkeys, red pandas, snow leopards and even grizzlies.

In an attempt to re ignite that feel good vibe they had going before the el Karen ruined it, Wade ran up to the red panda enclosure, pointed to it and said “the butterfly fact was cool. Tell me something bout’ red pandas.”

Logan didn’t respond, he was working on his box breathing.

When that didn’t work, Wade tried again, this time with maximum effort “so, master Shifu is a red panda, and Po is a regular panda so…that’d make Shifu his dad, right? Dunno why they even bothered with the third movie, I mean, Shifu was right fucking there.”

’Red pandas and giant pandas aren’t related’ Logan was still a little shaken up, but Wade knew that he’d soon be back to his relaxed self. It was taking less and less time as the months went by for Logan to recover whenever something bad happened outside the apartment ’red pandas are Ailuridae and giant pandas are Ursidae.’

“…I see” Wade replied, his tone making it very clear that he had zero clue what any of that shit ment.

Massively oversimplifying it, Logan signed ’its, its own thing. Uh, closer to racoons and weasels than bears.’

“Hmmmmmmm” Wade walked over to the Pandas then back to the Red Pandas and did this a few times. Eventually he settled on the Panda enclosure, using the glass safety rail to support his upper body “hunh, yes, I see.”

Animals.

It’s all he wants to talk about sometimes, just like cooking. But, when he does, the excited words pour out of his mouth like a waterfall and when they do, people give him an annoyed look, then sigh. It's a look that says ‘I’d rather be anywhere else than here listening to this shit’, and he suspects Wade will have it too, but when he turns he sees the look is absent.

Wade is looking at him as if he is the most fascinating thing on the planet. He’s been doing that all day. Logan has learned to admire quietly, but maybe he doesn’t have to do that anymore.

He took a quick look around and noticed that there were barely any humans present and those that were, were so far away from where they stood, that Logan felt he could finally speak out loud.

There it was the tiny little spark of passion, so close to the surface ready to burst out. Just a small push, that’s all it’d take. So, with all the confidence he could muster, Wade ran over to the grizzly enclosure and said “I think it’s buck fucking wild that a bear’s diet is, like, 90% honey.”

Logan corrected him almost immediately “Common misconception. Bee’s n’larve are what they’re after cus of the protean, not honey. Though…they like it, too.”

“How do you know that?” come on, Lo, info dump, I know you can do it.’

“My old neighbour used to be a bear. We lived in the same cave together.”

“It’s great that the gay community came together for you, Peanut.”

Logan shook his head no.

“Oooooh, you mean an actual goddamn bear!”

Logan nodded “her name was Sue, n’she had two cubs, James n’Heather. Cutest little things…curious too. She let me play fight with em n’teach em how to hunt” He let out a sensible chuckle then looked far away for a moment “wonder how they’re doin’ now…”

“Sue, and James like the Johnny cash songs, right?” After Wade had overheard Logan singing I walk the line in the shower, he downloaded every Johnny Cash album onto his shitty little MP3 player and listened to it during boring merc jobs. He had also listened to Hank Williams and The Doors, which weren’t really to his taste but he powered through it cus it was what his Lolo liked.

Logan shook his head “James n’Heather were the names of the couple that found me after my pack died.”

If there was one thing Wade didn’t like about Logan, it was the latter tendency to just drop shit during conversations and never follow up. Well, not this time “…ok? So spill the beans, Lo. You can’t just drop that shit into a convo then not follow through.”

Logan gave a sensible chuckle then looked far away as he spoke “we were huntin’ the same deer, s’how they found me. Gave me a home n’were so patient.” He looked down at his hands and squeezed them together “Had to re learn how to read, write, n’walk properly -“

Embarrassed, Logan scratched the back of his neck. Even though he knew Wade wouldn’t laugh at him and his situation, it was still difficult to say out loud. "Dress myself. Took a long time to figure out clothes. Having them on when I'd been living feral for so long didn’t feel too great. James was so patient though, n'made it work.”

Wade realized why logan's feral self didn't like shit touching his ankles. It was still stuck on the mountain with the wolves.

He then went on to say "they had to teach me how to use the toilet, how to wash...it was hard having to re learn all these simple things I forgot cus of Weapon X n'livin with my pack.”

The mood darkened just a bit as Logan let out a sad sigh and rested his arms on the glass railing “Weapon X broke my brain, Wade. James n'Heather tried real hard to fix it, but…it just never healed right. Sometimes I get memories of the man I used to be n'I know that ill never be that man again. He's gone.”

Weapon X had inserted needle-like probes into his brain, wires into his muscles, drugged him to the gills with mood altering substances, and mentally reprogrammed him in an attempt to turn him into a mindless weapon. They controlled his every movement, every breath, what he ate, even had the power to turn him on and off at any time.

This, of course, caused Irreparable damage to his frontal lobe and psyche.

Sometimes, when Logan looked in the mirror, all he could see was a chore. With the thoughts of James and Heather fresh on his mind, Logan decided that now was as good a time as any to finally ask what had been on his mind for longer than he liked to admit “Wade….can I ask you something? n’I want you to be honest.”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

He braced himself for the worst case scenario “do you….ever think that m’a chore, n’you could do better?” There were times, especially during his heavy days, that he’d feel that Wade was being forced into a caregiver role. It made Logan feel so guilty and so shitty because Wade didn’t sign up for that.

Wade didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even have to think “oh, fuck no. Not at all.”

“Oh” that was the only thing Logan managed to say, because he hadn’t prepared for a positive answer.

“You’re not a chore, Logan. I don’t take care of you because I feel like I’m forced to, I do it because I fucking want to and because I love you.” Wade crossed his arms then started to pace, he didn’t seem particularly mad or even unhappy, just deep in thought “it’s funny, cus a long time ago I had almost this exact same conversation with Vanessa, and back then I didn’t really get why she was so upset with me. But I think I get it now.”

He stopped in his pacing and said very firmly, unclipping the leash from Logan’s collar “there is no ‘do better’ because there IS no one better than you. You are the most intelligent, brave, handsome, creative and stubborn man I have ever fucking met. So fucking what if you need help, so fucking what if your brain doesn’t work right? It doesn’t change your worth and it will never change how much I love you and how fucking thrilled I am that I get to spend the rest of eternity with you.”

Logan blushed as he took in his words. Wade was no longer handler. He was mate and alpha. He was love.

Logan let out a loud in-between of a chirp and a cluck “I love you too, darlin.’”

—-

They had decided to skip right to the Tisch Children’s Zoo Touch Exhibit, this was due to Wade’s extremely short attention span having run out for the day. Petting was far more exciting than just standing around looking at things.

They stood side by side amongst very small children, holding out palm fulls of feed. Logan held out both of his hands and seemed to be having a nice time feeding the goats. Wade on the other hand…

"That’s my shirt, you fuck!” Wade grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled, trying to dislodge it from the goats mouth. This turned into a tug of war with Wade throwing obscenities at the goat while it replied in earnest with muffled bleats that Wade was 99% sure were slurs.

Logan’s attention turned from the goat to Wade, his hand still outstretched for it to eat off of.

Another goat joined in with a baaa. Exasperated, Wade said “oh my god! There’s another one?! Fuck off!!”

A small laugh bubbled up like soda pop.

“I AM NOT A BUFFET YOU FUCKS!” Another joined in to crowed him and mothers covered their children’s ears and lead them away, leaving Wade to the mercy of the three goats who were trying to eat his shirt “NOOOO GO AWAY!”

Pearls of laughter rose from Logan's throat followed by snorts as he found himself doubled over from the sheer force of it. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to laugh so freely and around humans no less.

Logan tossed what was left of his feed to the goats and helped shoo them away, still laughing all the while. With one last tug, Wade freed himself. He glared at the goats and whispered “I know where you live, you shits. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”

Without the leash, Logan was finally able to look at Wade without the lens of handler and what he saw was pure beauty. It was like Wade was the sun - radiant, warm and full of life. Oh, it was wonderful.

His laughter trailed off as he pulled Wade into his arms and kissed him. As they shared their kiss, surrounded by the animals, a very amazing thing happened.

Logan’s collar unclipped and disappeared.

Logan belonged to no one but himself. For the first time in his life, he is finally free.

And he chooses to stay.

Chapter Text

Wade was in a dark blue cardigan, a yellow One-Punch Man oppai shirt, jeans and shoes. Logan’s communication cards were clipped to his belt loop.

Logan was wearing a dark red tight fitted shirt with Beast’s X-Men hoodie overtop, compression gloves, jeans and boots. Scent was integral to keeping Logan calm and present, thus he, Wade and Althea came up with the ingenious plan to turn the hoodie into a scent smorgasbord of the entire household. They washed the cardigan in a little bit of Althea’s lavender scented laundry detergent, wrapped Mary up in it like a burrito just long enough for her scent to mingle and settle, then let Wade wear it for a bit.

It was comforting. With each inhale, the scents of his pack helped calm each part of himself: the man, feral and Weapon X. Logan just hoped it would be enough, but, as he stood in front of the school gates with his heart in his ass and an overwhelming urge to book it outta there, he didn’t have much hope.

But, he would not run. He had made a promise to himself to enter the mansion. To let Beast do what he needed and to meet the X-Men, and when it came to promises, Logan took them very seriously. But, it wasn’t just a promise that was driving Logan forward. It was also the knowledge that if he bailed, then this would continue to hold him back for the rest of his life.

And so, with a deep breath, Logan placed his hands on the school gate and pushed it open. Wade followed close beside him.

The grounds and the outside of the mansion looked identical to the one from his universe which caused him to slow his already glacial pace. Logan realized, admonishing himself, that if they had been able to fix his world, what the fuck made him think he could just stroll right in and pretend nothing had happened, especially since just seeing the grounds made his heart hurt so much?

It even smelled like that terrible day. Like fire, alcohol and gunpowder. The tree’s, topiary’s, the fountain, the path - cut down, destroyed and covered in blood.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to help clear it and brought himself back to the present. He wasn’t there anymore. This was not his mansion. These were not his X-Men. He was going to be ok.

“Salutations!” Beast’s voice was impressively loud and cheerful as he beckoned them over with a wave. Beast was wearing glasses, had a white dress shirt on with a brown sweater vest overtop and tweed trousers. He wore no shoes.

Logan managed a small smile and waved back.

Charles was wearing - wait. Logan stopped in his tracks the moment his eyes landed on Charles. Neither he, nor Wade - if the furious look on the latter’s face was any indication - were told of this. Only Beast was meant to be greeting them at the door and taking them on the tour, Charles wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near them until the end.

Logan’s brows furrowed and he bit his lower lip. Wade laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Beast had promised that everything would be done in chunks as to make the transition to meeting the X-Men and Charles easier on him mentally and emotionally. Logan looked up at Wade for a brief moment then back at Beast and Charles. This was not how it was supposed to go.

Beast mentally said to Charles, displeased ’You told me that you had informed Logan of this new arrangement.’

“I did" Charles replied.

’Then why does Logan look so shocked, and Wade so murderous?’ Beast replied in a clipped tone. He watched as despite Logan’s hesitation and shock, the latter continued onward until he was standing face to face with himself and Charles.

Charles did not reply, signalling the end of the conversation.

Wade shot both of them a nasty glare and Beast couldn’t blame him. The visit had only just begun and it was already off to a bad start. Nevertheless, Beast was determined to salvage it.

Charles looked identical to the one from his universe. Same chair, same perfect posture, but there were subtle differences as well.

First was his scent: sandalwood and cucumber soap as opposed to the scent of ash and bergamot.

Second was the air around him was far more welcoming and relaxed. His Charles had been welcoming and kind as well, but there was a part of him that always regarded other mutants that weren’t considered as useful, or those such as himself that were too feral, as projects and weapons instead of just people.

And then there was the matter of his appearance, his tie was askew. Charles was not a slovenly man. He took great pride in his appearance.

Charles extended a hand in greeting “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Logan.”

Instead of taking his hand, Logan rolled up his sleeves, bent down and began to adjust Charles’ tie. It was an act of service that he did out of habit for his Charles.

“S’crooked” Logan mumbled. He didn’t understand why Charles was content with going out with his tie like that, but then he had to remind himself that this Charles was not the same as his. They were two different people, just as was the case with himself and their Logan.

Maybe this Charles was just a little more lax in his way of dress, he thought to himself. But a nagging voice in the back of his head whispered no, that’s not right. Something’s wrong.

“Thank you, Logan.” Charles laid a hand upon Logan’s for a brief moment, they then locked eyes. It was as if for that few precious seconds they were having an entire conversation. Logan stood back up and simply gave a quick nod.

Both Wade and Beast regarded the quick scene as a little unsettling though they didn’t really know why.

To physically see Charles was hard enough but to smell his scent once more was a different matter entirely. So many complicated emotions flooded through him alongside the distinct nagging feeling that he was forgetting something extremely important.

Logan had been communicating telepathically with Charles for months. It started shortly after his emergency visit to the Mansion. He, of course, told Wade right away, the latter of whom immediately asked a question that made Logan realize that the dynamic he had back in his world with his X-Men was far more messed up than he had realized.

’Did you consent?’

Back in his universe, he just accepted it as fact that telepaths read people’s minds whenever they pleased because it was their right as mutants with superior powers, and if it made him uncomfortable? Too fucking bad.

Logan realized that he didn’t like it when people went digging in his mind. He didn’t like it when Weapon X or Cassandra did it and he didn’t like it when his Jean and Charles did it either. So, when he told Wade that yes, he did in fact consent, Wade replied in a way that Logan felt was a bit odd though not unwelcome.

”No, mean’s no, Peanut. Remember that.”

Boundaries were a struggle for Logan, as the majority of his life had been rife with his boundaries, wants and needs being stepped on and ignored. But he had consented to talking with Charles telepathically, right?

Sometimes he wasn’t so sure.

After all, he never was very good at setting boundaries for himself.

Wade clapped his hands, causing Logan and Charles to look his way “sooooo we gonna go in or are we gonna stand out here all day like assholes?”

—

The first step is always the hardest.

With Wade’s hand in his own, Logan stepped past the threshold and into the Mansion for the very first time. He inhaled and a wave of scents blew past him like a strong breeze - some familiar, others not.

He took a few more steps inside, and looked down to see a small pool of blood lapping at his feet, then back up in time to watch as children rushed through the halls and down the stairs to get from class to class. Their smiling faces and laughter twisted into mutilated corpses and familiar screams that used to echo throughout his mind like a bad soundtrack for two decades.

Logan closed his eyes for a moment, breathed in and squeezed Wade’s hand. Each inhale of his pack’s scent helped keep him grounded.

Wade gently pulled him forward while Beast stayed a few steps in front. Charles had gone on ahead.

The layout was all wrong. As they walked past the dining room, Logan’s brows furrowed. That wasn’t right, the dining room was where the living room was supposed to be, and the library and the rec room seemed to have switched places. The only things that were identical to his world were the outside and the main staircase that led up to the second floor.

It was all so wrong.

Though this wrongness wasn’t a foreign feeling to him, at least not anymore. This universe had a lot of small but noticeable differences, such as currency: in his universe the penny was silver, and the dime, quarter and nickel were copper.

Or historical event dates: The two towers in his universe fell on the 14th instead of the 11th.

But for some reason he didn’t quite understand, the difference in layout was making him feel so incredibly unhappy.

“You ok?” Wade gently asked.

Ever observant, Wade always knew when to push and when to simply just be present. His ability to read the emotions of the people around him was incredible and also showed that a lot of his overtly crude and rude personality was done on purpose rather than by mistake.

“I’m…just taking it all in. I’m ok” it sounded unconvincing to his own ears and he knew that Wade wasn’t buying it either but thankfully he didn’t press the subject, just squeezed his hand and moved on.

Everything was going fine until Wade stopped and exclaimed “ugh, so obnoxious.”

Logan turned, finding himself face to face with a giant painting. The mansion in the background, Charles in the middle surrounded by his family: Ororo, Hank, Scott, Jubilee, Jean, Kurt, Rogue….and himself. he lifted his hand - fingertips brushing the painted visage of ‘his’ face.

He sees the man he’s a pale imitation of, the one who was loved and wanted and good. The one on all of Wade’s Wolverine merchandise, the one that everyone praises, the one whose absence left a massive hole of such profound sadness that Logan knows he’ll never be able to fill.

Wolverine. The one whose memories trickle into his mind sporadically, first in the Void with Cassandra, then more often since he arrived in this universe. He doesn’t tell, doesn’t tell, doesn’t tell because what would he say? That the memories he is experiencing are from another him, from another time that has been and might no longer be?

He doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand.

Wet dog, booze, cigars, illness. The other Logan’s scent began to overtake the others and soon it was all he could smell.

The Wolverine. The haunted. The aged one. The tired one. The sick one. The dying.

Wolverine the hero.

The memories hit him full force as bad things often do.

Logan remembers. He remembers. He remembers memories that trickle in from time to time, memories of an older Charles, sick, erratic and dying. Mind decaying, slovenly appearance while another Wolverine tends to him like a tired and dutiful son.

Charles is sick. His mind is sick. Logan has known for weeks. How could he have forgotten?

His healing factor had been treating these memories like a wound and had blocked them, due to the overwhelming emotional distress they had been causing him.

But now, the memories have come back once more in full force and the realization is too much. Everything is too loud. Too stressful. Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much.

TOO MUCH

Logan’s arm fell limp at his side.

Time seemed to slow down.

And everything felt like

A dream.

A hand grabs his left, familiar and comforting.

Another hand. Big, blue and strong, takes his right. Now in the middle he is pulled along by two and he follows without fuss.

A deep rumble. A purr comes from the big blue fellow. Comforting. Beast his mind supplies, though it sounds more like an echo, so far away. Just like the -

Laughter of children and their pitter patter of footsteps as they run from class to class.

Or the familiar sound of the carabiner being jingled. His attention shifts to Wade and the communication cards being held out.

Overwhelmed, Tired, Hungry, Yes, No, Angry, Pain, Happy, Help and Unsure.

That’s right. A choice. Logan knows how this goes. It’s familiar. It’s easy.

“How are you feeling?” Wade always asks.

Movements slow, he points to overwhelmed then unsure because he doesn’t know.

Doesn’t know.

Doesn’t know.

Nothing happens for a long moment as Wade deliberates on what to do. And then he’s moving again, stuck in the middle. He’s being led. He’s being led to the lab, but his movements are slow.

Every step on the bloodied floor is like trying to tread through molasses. Thick. Difficult. Exhausting. It’s hard.

It’s hard.

It’s so hard.

But then, big, strong, furry blue hands lift him up and cradle him close. The familiar and soothing scent of disinfectant and vanilla help make it a little better. Logan’s nose twitches as he takes in Beast’s scent and lays his head on his shoulder.

Another purr, powerful and calming helps to dispel the screams that had been plaguing him since he had entered the mansion. He closes his eyes and lets himself float. In the darkness it’s less overwhelming. Less confusing. Easier.

He hears the ding of the elevator opening and the sounds of Beast and Wade chatting. He catches bits and pieces.

“Dohohoho was that a purr, big blue and beautiful?” Wade sounded happy.

“I discovered my ability to purr after completing the experiment that had been alluding me for quite some time. It seemed that some aspects of my mutation had been blocked due to psychological means.” Beast sounded pleased.

A hand rubs his back, another rubs his arm.

Another ding. They exit. He opens his eyes and sees chrome walls and floors.

But everything’s strange right now. Nothing feels real.

The infirmary smells like disinfectant, is shiny and organized. It’s presence makes him tense. It’s scary.

It’s scary.

So scary.

He wants to run and hide but his body won’t cooperate.

He’s sat down on an examination table. Wade sits down beside him and takes his hand again.

Logan squeezes his eyes shut. Doesn’t want to see what comes next.

The smell of an alcohol wipe. The tightness of a tourniquet.

Then, he feels a sharp pinch. Pain.

The dream fog lifts.

——

Beast removed the tourniquet, rolled down Logan’s sleeve and said to Wade “your turn, Mr.Wilson.”

Wade seemed rather unwilling and let out a very dramatic sigh “uuuuuuuuuuuuh UUUUUUUUUUUUUGH this is so dumb! My guy, all you’re gonna find is cancer and disappointment. There, saved you one billion hours of work!”

“I’m not testing for things, Mr. Wilson. The blood draw is so I can work on better medicines and sedation for you two just in case one of you falls ill again.” Beast said as he placed the blood filled tube labeled ‘Logan’ into the padded holder.

“Oh. That’s…that’s actually really nice. Alright…just try not to stick it in too hard, ok? I’m delicate” Beast rolled his eyes, tied the tourniquet and stuck the needle in.

Wade let out a loud, wonton moan, causing Beast to pause.

“Was that really necessary, Mr.Wilson?”

“Yes.”

He let out a dramatic sigh of his own and continued. As he did, he thought to himself you took an oath, Henry. Do no harm. But by god, does he test me sometimes.

“All finished” Beast stood back up, items in hand. He put things away, and tidied up. Wade snickered from his place on the table.

It was like history was repeating itself. Beast and Wade watched as Logan, who was clearly out of his dissociated state, hopped off the table and got on all fours, ready to bolt.

But the moment he tried, his booted feet caught on his baggy sleeves, pitching him forward, and slamming him into the ground. The moment his forehead made contact with the floor, a sharp metal ‘bong!’ echoed throughout the sterile environment.

Wade and Beast shared a look. Hand covering his mouth, Beast turned away as to be discreet. It was quite difficult not to burst into laughter at the sheer hilarity of the whole situation, as sad as it was. He picked up the torch and placed it in his pocket then walked over to the pair on the floor.

“Haha oh my god, welcome back, Lo” he knelt next to Logan and helped him into a sitting position. The fall had knocked him senseless and it was taking him a moment to get his bearings.

Delicate piece of machinery, that was the term Logan used to refer to his brain and eyes. The eyes, when gouged out or injured could take up to a day to regenerate. As for his brain, severe injury to his head usually resulted in seizures, and instances such as this, where he was knocked senseless, took a few minutes for his brain to come back online. There was never a single instance where his brain or his eyes regenerated as fast as the rest of his body.

Beast sat down criss cross on the floor across from Logan. He allowed Wade to help keep Logan sitting up and still as he shone a light into each eye.

“Gave yourself a bit of a concussion, my boy” Beast gently chided as he checked Logan’s pupils.

“M’older than you” groused Logan.

Beast chuckled as he moved on to palpating Logan’s neck “I suppose that’s true, but I can’t help it. You look much younger than I - open your mouth please - oh, isn’t that fascinating” Logan’s upper molars on each side were rotated 90 degree’s inward which allowed him to easily crush bone and consume frozen tissue.

Beast moved on to the rest of his body, taking care to be as gentle and mindful as he possibly could. He learned that it wasn’t just the hair or the teeth that set him apart from their Wolverine. Logan was much more flexible, a little bit thinner, and - if Wade’s stories were to be believed - stronger, too. But his ligaments were in a bad way and his feral mutation was much more pronounced as well.

Wade had divulged, after getting permission from Logan, that this universe’s Wolverine had simply only undergone the adamantium bonding process before escaping, whereas Logan had spent years as an unwilling test subject - being operated on, tortured and modified. His brain and body had suffered as a result. It made Beast want to weep.

Logan desperately wanted to tell Beast about the memories; about Charles’ sickness, but he also knew that if he did then it’d be the only thing Beast would be able to focus on. The mood would be ruined, everyone would be stressed out and he really didn’t want to deal with that right now, especially when he still had to deal with the dread and stress of meeting with this universe’s X-Men.

“Something on your mind, Logan?” Beast asked as he finished up his exam.

“No” he lied.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here to listen” he turned to Wade who was also sitting criss cross apple sauce and said “your turn.”

Wade looked almost giddy and said to Logan “this is gonna be funny as fuck, watch.”

“Your body’s condition certainly is……………………………..unique, Mr.Wilson” every inch of the man’s body was in terrible shape. The longer the physical exam went on, the more distressed and grossed out Beast became. Wade Winston Wilson was basically a walking, talking, partially rotting, corpse.

“Back when I didn’t look like a burn victim on ugly juice, my oncologist told me my shit was fucked. She cringed just like you did!” Wade laughed “living on 1 HP babieeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“I must say, that you are certainly the most optimistic and joyful man I’ve ever met when it comes to, uh,” he struggled to find the right words, taking great effort not to sound too insensitive “such unique health issues.”

“Not ugly” Logan’s brain had finally healed up and he looked Wade in the eye, his expression firm “you’re not ugly so, don’t ever call yourself that shit again.” He then turned to Beast “can we fucking go, now? Don’t wanna be here anymore.”

—

The room was large and welcoming, the walls were painted a natural beige and a mix of chairs and couches had been rearranged in a circle. So everyone was facing each other. Logan gave Wade’s hand a squeeze, half the room looked like rotting corpses while the others: Rogue, Kurt and Charles appeared healthy and whole.

Kurt and Rogue sat side by side and patted the extra seat on the couch in invitation for Hank to join them. Scott and Jean sat together, to their right was Charles, and off to their left was Jubilee and Storm.

And much to Logan and Wade’s chagrin, their seats were smack dab right in between Jean and Charles. Over the year they had spent together, the two men had developed a unique ability to communicate nonverbally though small facial expressions. A raised brow, a slight twitch of the eye or an upturned corner of the mouth, both men seemed to be thinking the same thing goddammit.

After a moment of brief hesitation, they took a seat.

Logan’s gaze swept over the X-men. They looked nearly identical to the ones from his universe, save for small visual differences such as hair: Ororo. Clothing preference: Scott, jubilee, Jean, and scent, Jubilee: soda pop and black powder, Ororo: rain and moss, Scott: cologne and motor oil.

Except for Jean, who smelled exactly like the one from his universe:fire and flowers. But it didn’t make any sense and contradicted everything he’d experienced thus far. Variants were similar but not the same. They all smelled different. That was the rule. That’s how it was supposed to be. What was going on?

Logan then decided to focus on the floor. It was difficult being around so many familiar faces and scents, it was far easier to try to deal with things when he didn’t have to continually stare at the faces of his old friends.

Each X-Men gazed upon Logan, consumed by their thoughts and feelings.

The resemblance is uncanny Ororo thought sadly he looks so much like my love and yet, there is such profound sadness in those eyes.

Jubilee leaned forward, her hands on the chairs seat to steady herself I wanna say hi. I probably should say hi, but what if he doesn’t know who I am? Was there a Jubes in his universe? Did they play video games together? Does he like video games? Sure hope he does. she looked up at him for a moment I wonder what type of games he likes?

Scott crossed his arms and looked him up and down our Logan wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that. The X-Men hoodie was so comically large on him that it looked like a bad joke. Did he lose a bet? he’s acting weird, maybe he’s in one of his moods again. Maybe a little ribbing will cheer him up?

Hoping to break the ice, Scott said, awkwardly “You look…different.” then, seeing Logan’s averted gaze, added with a lame laugh “not man enough to look me in the eye?”

Wade’s eye twitched and Logan ignored it.

Jean placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder “Logan’s always been hard to reach, Scott. But it’s ok” she looked at Logan and smiled “Hank told us that you struggle with talking. But, don’t worry though, I can help.”

The room’s atmosphere soured and everyone tensed. Beast, Rogue and Kurt glared at her.

“What in the cinnamon toast fuck? No!” Wade spat, shutting her down right away. He stayed seated and never raised his voice. Logan loathed it when he escalated shit, so he was trying his best not to do that.

Logan felt grateful that Wade took charge. He really didn’t like people rooting around in his brain. He was also finding it difficult to get the right words out, not only due to his brain damage, but exhaustion from the dissociation and stress caused by this mansion of bad memories.

He could feel Wade’s eyes on him, and he turned his head to look at him. Logan gave a slight nod, and went back to looking at the floor. Logan was so thankful for the long sleeves, as they were hiding his claws that were peaking out from between his knuckles and popping back in. A pain stim he developed long ago to keep himself grounded.

Beast’s nose twitched, he could smell the blood but chose to stay silent.

“Logan doesn’t like people rooting around in his brain, ok?” can’t believe I even have to say this shit. “He’ll speak when he’s ready and able and if he doesn’t then he doesn’t. Do it again and I’ll kick your - I mean, I’ll get mad, and you won’t like me when I’m mad.” He nudged Logan with his elbow “like the Hulk, get it?”

Logan chuckled.

Meanwhile, Kurt, Rogue, Beast and Jubilee all shared a look as if to silently communicate amongst themselves. They felt bummed out. They felt so ashamed. How many times had Jean gone rooting in their Logan’s head without his permission? Beast ran a hand down his face as he realized the answer probably was ‘a lot’.

“I would like to extend an invitation to you, Logan, to join the X-Men.” Charles said suddenly and without warning.

Logan looked at Charles in shock, Wade did the same. The offer was a deliberate slap in the face. Charles and he had spoken mentally at length about this and Logan had made it clear that he had no desire to ever join the X-Men of this world. Yet here Charles was, acting as if the discussions had never even occurred.

Was what most peculiar about this whole situation was that Charles sounded like he was truly making the offer for the very first time. It didn’t seem malicious whatsoever and a feeling of dread began to settle in Logan’s stomach. Was Charles already sick?

It didn’t make any sense though. Sick people always carried an unpleasant smell with them. Cancer smelled like rot. The flu, colds, infections and other basic illnesses smelled like sour milk. STD’s were a gross wet smell, etc. Charles didn’t smell off at all.

Logan stopped his musings. He didn’t have the luxury of privacy with his own thoughts in the presence of two telepaths. If he wasn’t careful, one of them could read his mind and then everything would go to shit. Logan needed to be calm. He needed to either think of something else or clear his mind. Easier said than done though.

Thankfully his saviour would come in the form of Beast who replied to Charles in a curt tone, "that's not at all what we discussed!" Then he said mentally this was supposed to be an introduction, not a recruitment. What the devil do you think you’re doing, Charles?

Charles tried to soothe “an offer, Henry, nothing more. His no will be respected.”

Beast crossed his arms and looked away from Charles, Rogue and Kurt didn’t seem to know what to do, so they stayed quiet. Jubilee fidgeted in her spot, clearly uncomfortable with the exchange.

Wade looked murderous. He knew from Logan that Charles had made the offer multiple times and each time he had refused. To do this again, in front of everyone, was pure manipulation. Before he could tell Charles where he could shove that offer, Jean said.

“We have your room, your things. Exactly as you left them. This is where you belong, Logan, with us, your family.” Boundaries and consent was something Jean always struggled with due to her powers. Having access to people’s minds whenever she pleased resulted in her developing the extremely toxic and damaging opinion that she knew each person better than they knew themselves; what they needed or what they liked…they just didn’t know it yet, but they’d learn.

Beast, Rogue, Jubilee, Charles, Wade and Ororo glared at her. Ororo said, in practiced calm as if she had repeated this ad nauseam like a mother talking to their child, her tone like a thunderclap “Stop this at once! This is not the way to go about it. Do not do it again.” Scott looked uncomfortable but didn’t speak up.

But, Jean truly did not understand. Logan was Logan. He and their Logan were, in her mind, one in the same. Therefore, she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

"No." Logan’s voice cut through the thick tension.

That was a word he wasn't used to using when it came to her. It felt good. “Wade n’Althea are my family. My place is with them. So, thank you for giving Laura a home but my answer is, n’will always be, no.”

This is who I chased after? What a fool I was… Logan thought to himself.

Jeans mouth tightened into a thin line. Logan never said no to her. He just always bent the knee and was a good boy. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go! "And when they die, and you’re all alone again, you’ll end up crawling right back like you always do! Why delay the inevitable, Logan? just come home now.”

Wade’s words from earlier echoed in his mind once again ”No, mean’s no, Peanut. Remember that.”

Brows furrowed, and clearly hurt, Logan said, forcing himself to speak “that is not my room n’those are not my things because I am not him! I am my own person. He can see that - “ he said pointing to Wade “they can see that” he pointed to Beast, Rogue, Kurt, jubilee and Ororo “why can’t you?”

Logan abruptly stood, his hands bunched into fists at his sides. Before she could reply, he bared his teeth, showing off his sharp canines. His voice rose in volume until he was almost yelling “For the first time In my life I am finally happy n’I am not gonna let you, Charles or anyone else make me feel bad about it! Understand?!”

Wade looked up at him, so proud and amazed “that’s right, Lolo. You tell that bitch!”

The room erupted into verbal chaos. Beast and Rogue were taking Jean to task, Scott stood up and paced anxiously - clearly unhappy by the direction this took, Charles looked profoundly disappointed with himself and Jean’s behaviour and Ororo comforted Jubilee who was now becoming all too aware of Jeans toxicity and the uncomfortable questions that began to form in her mind.

Had Jean fucked with her mind, too? Or other teammates other than Logan? If so, when? How much of her choices were actually her own? It truly scared her. Ororo soothed “there, there, child. It’s ok.”

The noise in the room was so uncomfortably loud and the vibe had soured. Logan slapped his hands over his ears and let out a growl. It was way too loud! Sensing a meltdown might be imminent, Wade stood up, took him by the arm and led him outside. Beast followed close behind.

—

“I am dreadfully sorry, you two. Had I known that was going to happen, I never would’ve allowed Jean to be present.“ Beast, Wade and Logan were now back on the school grounds. Logan paced in a circle and flapped his hands for a few moments, getting the bad energy out of his system.

"Not your fault shes a toxic mega cunt." muttered Wade.

Then he stopped and said “Henry…” the deliberate use of Beast’s real name was an indicator that whatever Logan had to say was quite serious “I think Charles is sick…”

In a slow and confused tone, Beast asked “how do you know that?” He couldn’t smell sickness on Charles, so as far as he knew, the professor was perfectly healthy.

"S'gonna sound insane, but you gotta promise me you’ll listen. I-I gotta say it before I leave or I might forget again” Beast nodded.

“I’ve been gettin' memories from the other Logan. I think my brains been purging most of them but...the memory bout' Charles came back today when I looked at the painting.”

Wade froze. Logan never told him about that. Then several, more concerning, thoughts went through Wade’s mind. How much did Logan know? Was he aware of the seizure and the death of the X-men? Did he know of the mutant extinction plot and the people associated therein? He sure fucking hoped not.

Then Wade mentally scolded himself. Logan was entitled to his privacy and if he wanted to keep shit to himself then that was ok. Besides, where the fuck did he get off getting all judgy mcjudgerson about secrets, especially since he himself was keeping some of his own?

“By sick, what do you mean, exactly?” Beast asked.

“H-He was actin’ all erratic n’his appearance was all unkempt. Ranted bout’ some shit called the quesalupa, what ever the fuck that is, n’didn’t seem to know who his Logan was. Just called him ‘the man who puts me to sleep’…it was like his mind was -“ he struggled to find the right word “deteriorated.”

Even though he didn’t see them as family anymore, he still loved the X-Men very much and didn’t want to see any of them hurt. Not wanting Hank to think that he willingly withheld such important information from him he then quickly said, his tone a little panicked “If I’d remembered, I swear I would’ve told you earlier!”

He put his hands on Logan’s shoulders, and let out a purr, hoping it’d help calm the other man “calm, my boy. I believe you. Now, this is very important…I need you to think very hard. Is there anything else you can remember? No matter how small, any detail will help.”

Logan said, after thinking very hard for a long moment “he seemed less erratic when the sun was up…I think? I don-I don’t know.” The memories were always in bits and pieces and out of order, making it difficult to understand exactly what was happening.

“Sundowning…” Beast whispered to himself. Suddenly, he was struck with a horrifying realization: Alzheimer’s. This was bad. This was very, VERY, bad.

The signs were all there, he reminded himself. Charles was forgetting things, his appearance was slipping….he just didn’t want to see it. Beast bit his lip then took a breath to calm himself. Right now was not the time to panic, he would deal with this later today, right now he had to stay calm for Logan.

A breeze blew through and Beast couldn’t help but think oh mighty wind, please blow my worries away. he patted Logan’s shoulder and said “don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Logan nodded. He could tell that Beast at least had some idea as to what was wrong with Charles, but he decided not to press the issue because he knew that there was a very real risk that the answer he received would be far worse than simply not knowing.

Wade realized that there were two possibilities. 1. Logan knew about the seizure and his mind had blocked it. Or 2. He truly didn’t know and was only aware of the illness on a surface level. Either way Wade knew that Logan's mind wouldn’t be able to handle another X-Men extinction event. He’d text Beast later about Charles’ seizure, desperately hoping that for Logan’s sake, with enough foreknowledge Beast might be able to come up with some sort of solution and the event might be able to be avoided entirely.

Wade didn’t sound hurt, just more curious than anything "why didn’t you tell me?"

“Because it sounded utterly insane.”

In a flat tone, Wade squeezed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a great big sigh “my guy..I took you from your universe, we went to the Void, fought and killed Charles' psychotic twin -"

Beast did a double take “Charles had a twin?” And was promptly ignored.

“Brought you to my universe, you helped kill a hundred me’s” incredulous he continued “your fucking new identity and documents literally appeared out of nowhere via TVA agent during breakfast and its getting another you’s memory’s that’s got you drawing the line in the sand? Seriously, bro?"

Logan opened his mouth to speak, raised a finger, then stopped. After a long moment he put his hand down, awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and said in a weak voice "well....when you put it like that….”

“I’m quite lost. What are you two talking about?”

Wade and Logan shared a look, nodded, then Wade guided Beast over to the fountain to sit. Logan sat on his left, Wade on his right. Beast let out an oof as Wade strongly clapped him on his back, leaned in and said “Well, you see, it all started when a group of super sexy - don’t worry, peanut, you’re still the sexiest beast in the entire multiverse - TVA agents kidnapped me on my birthday. Or..I think they were sexy…was hard to tell with the helmets on, but anyways -“

Chapter Text

There was a loud knock. Shortly thereafter it was followed up by three more knocks, each much more forceful than the last. With a sigh, Althea placed her cup down, made her way out of the kitchen and toward the door.

She didn’t need Logan’s keen sense of smell to know it was debt collectors on the other side of that door. She owed Myers money for cocaine and it seemed his patience finally ran out. What an impatient idiot.

Althea opened the door and was greeted by the click of a gun's safety being removed and the feel of a barrel being pressed up against her head. Unimpressed, she scoffed.

”I’ll fucking kill you bitch!” The mystery man shouted. She could hear the anger lacing his tone, probably born from embarrassment that his little intimidation tactic didn’t work as well as he’d hoped it would. A second voice, kinder, quieter and slower added “…not nice, Spencer.”

“Christ, Liam!” Spencer turned his body to address Liam, the gun shifted, and was now facing away from Althea’s head and toward the floor “we’ve been over this so many times! I know it’s not nice. I don’t fucking care! Look, I know your ears hurt but there’s nothing I can fucking do. So, cut the attitude and lets get this job done. Then we can get your meds, ok?”

The first idiot was a white man named Spencer. He sounded like a typical New Yorker and had the temper to boot. He was around 36 years old, had some muscle, and a bit of a belly. His hair was short, black, messy and his clothing was rumpled, ill cared for, and generally showed that he didn’t take much pride in his appearance.

His partner Liam, was a feral. Bloodhound subspecies. He had tanned, droopy, skin, chin length dusty brown hair, a large nose and big sad eyes. He wore a dark blue hoodie, matching sweats, red Spiderman crocs covered in Spiderman and Avengers charms, and a Spiderman themed adult bandana bib. He was around 40 years old but looked much older. He spoke in a very slow and relaxed tone.

Like all bloodhound subspecies, Liam was very prone to ear infections, had a very keen sense of smell and drooled a lot. 90% of all bloodhound subspecies went deaf due to lack of treatment for the frequent infections and the absurd cost of antibiotics. Sadly, Liam was no exception.

Through the very brief interaction she had with these idiots Althea had learned several key things. The first, was that if they were actually here to kill her, they would’ve done so the moment she opened the door.

Secondly, they made way too much noise to be considered professionals, which then brought her to the conclusion that these guys were complete fucking amateurs and thus not a threat. Even Mary seemed to share the same opinion, as she remained relaxed and unbothered in her dog bed.

This is pathetic she thought, fighting the urge to laugh.

“No you won’t. You’re making a scene, now get the fuck inside and sit the fuck down.” She turned away from them and walked back inside, muttering all the while “sends you two clowns. What a joke” before disappearing into the bedroom to fetch her wallet.

“What the fuck?” Spencer blurted out as he and Liam followed her inside. He turned to address Liam, his hand slightly outstretched as he gestured in her direction and with the other, placed his gun back into the waistband of his pants “no, seriously, what the fuck? This bitch is off her fuckin’ rocker.”

Liam scratched at his infected ear and nodded.

It was a very visually busy apartment. The walls were covered in various pictures and brick a brack. The floors, dressers, and TV, every inch was covered in something. There was a record player, an acoustic guitar, Puppins was clad in a little sweater and tutu, and a tablet with a captain America protective case rested on the table. It was like something out of an I Spy book.

Neither of them knew how to react to her indifference. Fear, screaming, begging? That was normal. But this? They didn’t know how to handle it. So, Spencer tried again. This time he was aiming to make her realize that no matter where she ran, she’d never be safe. That’d work, right?

“Think you’re the only one with a pet mutie? Liam’s real good at finding people. An’t that right, Liam?” They had heard she had a feral mutant, too. His interactions with feral’s so far were extremely limited to only Liam, and a random old female feral - Sparrow subspecies, with delicate bones and a tiny body. So, when Spencer heard the word ‘feral’ his mind correlated it with ‘pathetic’ and ‘harmless’.

Sound tended to carry in the apartment, so Althea could hear them just fine from inside the bedroom. She chose not to justify that offensive bullshit with a response.

“……don’t like that word.”

Althea didn’t like that word either. Before Logan moved in she was rather indifferent to it due to her lack of knowledge of mutants beyond the basic knowledge she learned from TV. But the moment he showed up in her life and became part of the family? Well, that word quickly made its way onto the banned list.

Spencer heaved a great big sigh “can you just shut up for two fuckin’ seconds about that shit? Christ, always up my ass.”

He gave Spencer a mean look, a growl, then got on all fours, nose to the ground and walked away.

Impatient Althea opened up the top drawer of her nightstand and removed her wallet. From the bedroom, she could hear them going through their things in search of something. Money, product, she wasn’t sure, but the one thing she was sure of is that if they weren’t careful they’d damage something which wouldn’t bode well for either of them or their health.

“Careful” she warned, her cane tapping as she walked out of the bedroom. She could hear one of the two going through Wade and Logan’s vinyl’s, rough and uncaring. Then, when Spencer picked up Logan’s acoustic guitar by the neck and roughly shook it, she warned him once more, her tone clipped and cold “Look, I don’t know what the fuck it is you’re looking for, but you gotta be more careful.”

“Money. Drugs” Spencer replied. He shook the guitar a few more times then placed it back down in it’s stand “old fucks like you really like to hide shit in weird places.”

“Motherfucker, you are wasting your damn time.” She walked over to the table, opened her wallet, took out her iBill - a pocket sized currency reader device - and inserted each bill one at a time. The largest bills were put off to the left, while the smaller ones were put on the right.

“Christ!” Spencer snapped after the device called out the currency amount for the fourth time “that’s annoying. The fuck is that thing?”

“IBill. As for what it does? Use your fucking ears.” She muttered “dumbass.”

Bristling from the insult, he spat “I am usin’ my ears, bitch! hurry the fuck up!”

“Do you want your fucking money? Then be patient” just because she was blind didn’t mean she couldn’t roll her eyes. little power tripping fuck.

“Gotta lot of guns n’ kni- yo, what the fuck?” Spencer said as he examined the glock that was taped to the back of the TV. Why were there so many weapons in this apartment? It couldn’t be hers, he thought, she was a blind old bitch, so this crap would be useless to her. Which would logically mean it belonged to the feral staying in the house.

By now, common sense would usually kick in and the person would leave. Spencer, however, was not the brightest crayon in the box.

“Why the fuck does a blind bitch like you need so much shit, anyways? The fuck you need a gun for?” Althea didn’t reply, she just ignored him and scanned her bills.

Meanwhile, curious about the other feral’s scent, Liam had wandered into the bedroom. His nose lead him to Logan’s nest. He walked right inside it, and there he found Pup. It was drowning in the same scent that he smelled all over the apartment, so pungent that Liam nearly reeled back from the sheer intensity. Liam understood, he himself had a Spiderman toy that he adored. With careful hands he picked Pup up and cuddled em’ to his chest.

The scent told him a lot about the feral who lived here. They were a carnivore, probably a mustelid of some kind or maybe a canid. They were territorial as their scent was covering the walls, floors and doors. And the wolf pup revealed a sensitive, family orientated side. It was quite lovely. Maybe, after all of this, they could even become friends.

Liam gave Pup one last squeeze, a drool covered kiss to its forehead and left Logan’s nest.

Spencer moved away from the TV, leaving the gun where it was and moved on to the cluttered windowsill. When Althea didn’t reply, choosing instead to ignore him, he picked up the lone picture and shook it a little for emphasis.

“What? You’re too good to answer me?” He stole a quick glance - taking it in before moving to slam it down onto the ground, as was his intent, a pathetic display of intimidation. Something in that photo made him take another look, a longer one. Then, his heart dropped into his ass and he let out a pathetic squeak.

Three people were sitting on the living room couch. Althea in the middle with Puppin’s resting in her lap, on the left was Wade fucking Wilson, and on her right was the goddamn Wolverine.

Spencer audibly gulped. No wonder no-one wanted to touch the job, it was suicide. He took a step back, his legs shaking like a baby deer. It explained so much- why money started exchanging hands right after they took the job, why people gave them looks of pity or just laughed. Why the old lady didn’t even react to the threats.

This shit was just another Tuesday to her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Spencer cried out “Liam, we gotta go!”

“What about the money?” Tap tap tap, Althea said, her voice sugary sweet, as she followed his voice and held out $400 for him to take.

“FUCK YOUR MONEY, LADY!” Hysterical, he called out for Liam one more time. The latter finally padded up to him on all fours and asked, in that super gentle voice that secretly annoyed the fuck out of Spencer “what’s…….wrong?”

At sister Margaret's, mercenaries tended to come in three tiers. There were the top tiers: aka the ones who always completed a job not matter how hard or dangerous, they tended to be the type of ex-military that never really was able to settle back into civilian life. The ones below were the mids. Usually these mercs chose jobs in the middle, because they were too skilled for the bottom tier or not skilled enough for the high tier, didn’t possess the balls, or simply didn’t care enough to endanger their lives for what they considered to be pocket change.

And then there were the low tiers. They collected money and took pathetic, low risk, jobs that no one would be caught dead doing. In the case of these idiots, it was low level money procurement for low ranking and poor drug dealers. They went after the disabled and elderly because that’s literally all they could handle. As today’s experience was about to show, they were completely unequipped to handle anything else.

“Whats wrong?! EVERYTHING! We gotta -“ Spencer felt a gun barrel being held up against the back of his head and heard the click of the safety being removed. Wade said a little too cheerfully, his eyes dark and empty “should've brought your brown pants.”

Wade was wearing a blue cardigan with an adventure time shirt underneath. Brown slacks, and a pair of limited edition Captain America themed converse shoes. Normally, for an offence as egregious as this, Wade would’ve dispatched the fuckers with a shot to the head. However, being in an apartment kinda forced him to stop and reconsider, because:

1.Someone could hear and call the cops, and he had way too many illegal weapons stashed everywhere and he really REALLY didn’t want to spend more time in jail.

2. The bullet could travel though the floor, or the wall and kill a civilian. Not to mention, that as pissed as Logan was now, he’d be even more so if a human died. That was one thing he was absolutely adamant about: don’t kill humans. Wade could kiss sex and cuddles goodbye for a painfully long time, and Wade really REALLY didn’t want that.

So, for now, he’d let this idiot and his equally stupid friend? Boyfriend? live.

Beside him on all fours was Logan. Logan was in a plaid red and black shirt with a black A-shirt underneath, compression gloves, a pair of well fitted jeans and well worn leather boots. A deep rumbling snarl worked it’s way from his throat. He looked at Liam with nothing but pure, blind anger and it was clear that he was fixing to maul the other feral to death How fucking dare this mutt come into my fucking den n’threaten my fucking pack!

When two feral mutants fight, one of two things happen depending on their subspecies: they either fight or they run away. Liam chose to fight, a decision he would come to immediately regret.

Liam got on all fours and let out a low growl, standing his ground. Logan replied with a loud roar and charged at him on all fours with such speed that Liam barely had time to blink before he found himself pinned to the floor by Logan and his monstrous strength, Logan’s mouth dangerously close to his throat.

Logan let out another growl as he picked up Pup’s scent all over Liam’s person. His area had been violated. Pup had been manhandled. He went ballistic, slamming his hand down onto the floor right beside Liam’s head. A loud bang! echoed throughout the apartment.

A wolverine - the wolverine. Another canid or a feline? Aves or a deer? That he could handle, but a wolverine sub species? good god no. Liam whimpered and bent his head back, exposing his throat in submission. He could feel Logan’s hot breath and then the sharp pain of Logan’s canines piercing his throat. Not enough to kill Liam, but enough to hurt and convey that he could kill Liam at any time if he so wished and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Sorry we're late” said Wade "Lolo smelled that frumpy feral’s scent blocks away and crashed out. Fucking ruined our date, you inconsiderate morons” anger, possessiveness and Logan was fuming. What could that feral have possibly done to trigger that sort of reaction?

he observed the pair for a long moment then looked back at Spencer “you two fucked up real bad.”

Wade took the gun from Spencer's waistband and examined it with one hand. Unlike Spencer, whose aim had drifted as he spoke, Wade's hand remained steady and his gun never moved from its spot "eww. A 1911, really?”

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with my gun” he bought that gun all by himself and it became a major point of pride.

"Sure, if you like peanut butter and jam” Wade turned it over once more and moved it close to his face to really see all the nooks and crannies. It looked horribly rusted ”when was the last time you cleaned this piece of shit?"

"..I wiped it down with a damp cloth yesterday" Spencer replied.

"....no. I mean, when was the last time you cleaned it, disassembled it, and put it back together?"

“I'm supposed to do that?"

The answer gave him pause. Wade highly doubted that the gun in question was capable of working properly anymore. The 1911 was a popular gun, but it came with one huge drawback: it had a tendency to jam even when meticulously maintained. If this gun were indeed capable of functioning, then Wade would consider it nothing less than a Christmas miracle.

"Jesus christ," he muttered, confiscating the 1911 “you’re literally too stupid to live. This is my gun now, fucking cope and seethe dumbass.”

Wade then asked “who fucking sent you?” He gently smacked Spencer on the side of his head with the gun as if to say ‘hurry up’

Spencer replied, his voice shaky “ow! technically? -“ Wade rolled his eyes and said in a mocking tone “TeChNicAlly.”

“No one…it was on the job board-“ he didn’t get to finish his sentence because as soon as he mentioned the job board, Wade knew exactly what he was talking about.

Wade yelled, causing Spencer to jump “Weasel, that little bitch! that cock sucking piece of dogshit!” the angrier Wade became, the harder Spencer sweated. “Should’ve killed that little fuck when I had the chance!”

“D-Don’t kill me” he eked out.

“No one’s going to die today. Wade, cool it. Logan? Let him go. Let’s go to the table and talk this over, over some food” this was not a suggestion.

Gun still drawn, Wade guided Spencer over to the table while Logan did the same with Liam. Once everyone was seated, Logan got up and went into the kitchen to fetch some snacks.

Furious, Logan got two baggies of his cinnamon and skyr yogurt apple slices and emptied them out onto a plate, then took some of Wade’s chocolate sprinkles and was just about to douse the apples in it before he stopped himself.

GOD DAMNIT! he slammed the sprinkle container back onto the counter. The chocolate wouldn’t kill the mutt, but it would completely wreck his day. Not wanting to disappoint Althea, Logan decided to forgo his petty little idea and left the food as it was.

Most ferals had an intolerance to a food, or foods. Herbivores couldn’t tolerate meats, aves were lactose intolerant, and canids had a chocolate intolerance. It really was the fuckers own fault for invading his space and threatening his mother gonna take weeks to get that mutts smells outta my nest. Pain in my ass. but there were other ways to teach him a lesson than to tamper with the food.

He placed the plate down with way more force than necessary, causing Althea and Wade to jump and stuck Liam with an awful glare. Logan could see the gears turning in Liam's head, and he knew the latter was hesitant to eat the food provided, but Logan didn’t care. Logan was the alpha, and with a quick growl he made it clear to Liam that he was gonna eat the goddamn apple slices and he was gonna like it. gonna waste my goddamn food? No you fucking won’t!

Liam let out a nervous giggle. He said to Logan, revealing the upset "I really like...your nest........I really like your wolf....very soft.....how did you make your nest?"

Wanting to be friends with everyone was a natural desire of all canid feral subspecies. Althea and Wade stiffened. Wade said to her "its like they share the same single brain cell.”

Althea could only imagine how violated Logan felt right now. Pup wasn’t just a stuffed animal, it was special to him in ways she’d never fully be able to understand. With this revelation, Althea now understood his hostility.

Logan bared his teeth and growled out “shut the fuck up n’eat.” he didn’t want to be friends. Not now, not ever. That bridge was burned beyond repair the moment he and Spencer barged into the apartment with intent to harm his mother.

The feral did so with a weak whimper.

As Wade talked, he let the grip on his gun go a little slack and he tilted it to the side. As his hands moved, so did the gun “So, I’m a bit curious. How much was the job? How much money could that little shit fuck possibly have offered to make this even remotely worth it?”

Spencer and Liam shared a look. Liam whispered “$400” then Spencer echoed, louder “$400.”

“……$400?….you’re fucking with me, right?” Wade was met with a blank stare. He placed his head in his hands and said, his voice muffled “a couple grand I could maybe understand, but $400 fucking dollars…fuck me sideways” he lifted his head and said very bluntly “you two are so fucking stupid.”

“Look, we an’t dumb, alright?” Spencer said through gritted teeth “money an’t easy to come by now adays and people aren’t hiring no more, so we did what we had to do!”

Althea said in a very motherly tone “McDonalds is always hiring, so’s Subway. You could go back to school, learn a trade, but you don’t wanna do any of that, right? It’s hard, thankless work and you wanna be big - you wanna be bad ass, but here’s the thing.”

She leaned in and Spencer instinctively leaned back. He knew she couldn’t see them, but there was something about her that made it seem like she could see right fucking through them. “You’re not bad ass. You two are the biggest buncha pussies, I’ve ever fucking met. I’ve had shits more intimidating than you two. Neither of you are cut out for this. I say this with all the love your mama and daddy never gave you two: quit while you’re ahead. You keep this shit up, and you will die, it’s only a matter of time.”

Not willing to back down, because he still had a sliver of pride, thank you very much, Spencer spat “easy for you to say, lady!” He pointed to Liam “think it’s cheap takin’ care of Liam? It an’t! The goddamn antibiotics alone are bleedin’ me dry! McDonalds an’t gonna cover that shit and the cost of living!”

Liam frowned but didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry things are hard, but you understand that this way of life you’ve chosen isn’t a long term, viable, solution, right? One day you’ll meet the wrong person, someone who’s much less kind than us, and they will kill you and maybe they’ll kill Liam, too, or maybe they won’t. Then what? What the fuck will Liam do if you die?” Althea bluntly replied.

The infection smelled like sour milk, and was present in both ears. Despite being furious at the other feral, Logan couldn’t help but feel pity. It was hard to watch Liam eat, he did so excruciatingly slowly, almost mirroring a sloth, and every bite and swallow was accompanied by large amounts of drool that were caught by his Spiderman bandana bib.

“He’ll..figure it out” Spencer said lamely.

“Do you even have savings?” She was relentless “a budget plan? Or do you just spend your days spending your money on stupid shit and taking whatever job comes your way?”

Spencer, of course, didn’t reply.

Exasperated, Althea said “Motherfucker, something needs to change before it’s too late.”

What the fuck did she want him to do? He couldn’t just pull a job out of his ass and completely change his relationship with money, that’s not how it worked. He angrily muttered “you got no idea what it’s lik-“

Althea slammed her hands onto the tabletop and stood up “don’t know what it’s like? To what, exactly? Don’t know what it’s like to struggle? Motherfucker, you’ve no idea the shit I’ve been through; the shit I’ve seen and had to do just to survive.” She took a deep breath to calm herself and sat back down “put your pride aside and just fucking listen! I’m trying to help you.”

Wade placed his gun down and gave Spencer a look of pity. Even he was starting to feel sorry for these idiots. Maybe it was the desperation in his eyes, or the fact that Althea and Logan had rubbed off on him, but Wade was struck with a sudden urge to help this guy and his feral friend? Boyfriend? “Look…..the dealership I used to work at is always looking for people and I know the manager. So, if you really want a job and are willing to sort your shit out, I can hook you up.”

What? Spencer did a double take. Unsure if he was being fucked with or if this was a legitimate offer, he replied very slowly “you….want to help me? Why? What the fuck is in it for you?” these people are insane.

Wade shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. Then he looked at Althea, Logan, then back at Spencer “Althea seems to think that you’re worth saving. I’m also trying really hard to curb my violence so…if I ever see you at Sister Margaret’s after today, I will kill you. If you piss this opportunity away, I will beat you half to death. Understand?”

It was a harsh lesson, but a lesson they needed to learn. Truly dangerous people like Wade Winston Wilson were everywhere and a lot of them really loved to play with their food. Spencer was woefully unaware of just how lucky he and Liam truly were.

“Y-yeah, I understand.”

Now that Spencer was actively listening Wade said “Now here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re going to take the money back to Sister Margaret’s and give it to Weasel. Then you are never gonna set foot in there ever again. I will be checking up, so I will know. Do not fucking test me.”

Althea handed Wade the money and Wade handed the money to Spencer “there’s some paper and a pen in the kitchen. Write down your cell number and I’ll contact you soon once I get everything sorted. Now get the fuck outta my goddamn house.”

Logan and Liam walked on all fours toward the door, with a grunt and a no nonsense tone that promised violence if he was disobeyed, Logan said “keep your…brother?” Were they brothers, lovers, friends? Liam helpfully chirped “best friend."

“Keep your friend n’yourself on the straight n’narrow. Don’t make me track you down n’rip your throat out, don’t ever come back here.” And that was it. Logan refused to say anything more, this small act of kindness was all he was willing to give to the feral mutt that went into his nest and handled Pup without his permission.

He walked Liam to the door then turned around and padded back to Althea. Sharing his precious snacks had put Logan in a sour mood. But it was what Althea wanted, so who was he to refuse such a small request.

Logan sat down next to Althea and let out a grunt. She reached out and scratched behind his ears, coaxing a coo from the grumpy man.

“I know what you’re gonna say” Althea began, she heard the door close and Wade’s footsteps approaching “I gave them a chance the same reason I gave one to you and Logan. Not everyone deserves to be given up on. Sometimes all they need is a chance to change their path.”

Wade let out a grunt “uh, no, but thanks for telling me anyways” then a self suffering sigh and rubbed his forehead “Weasel’s just gonna keep sending people. Not sure what to do, you guys. I can’t just kill him, cus a lot of mercs rely on him to make a living, and I don’t want them up my ass 24/7 - I’m not John fucking Wick.”

Logan let out a chirp, he loved it when someone scratched behind his ears and ran their fingers through his hair. Wade snarked “you can chime in at any time, your majesty.”

“This place is no longer safe” Logan said gruffly, he was finally calming down. With a sigh that sounded like a job well done, he then added “But that doesn’t matter anymore.”

"Je m’excuse” Wade moved a chair over to where Althea and Logan sat then took a seat “why the fuck doesn’t it matter? Have you lost your damn mind? What part of ‘Weasel isn’t gonna stop with this bullshit’ do you not understand?”

To the point but not unkind he replied “I understand just fine. M’sayin’ it doesn’t matter because I made us a house.” Oh, Logan was just so pleased with himself.

“What?!” Althea and Wade blurted out at the same time. She stopped scratching and placed her hands back in her lap. What an unexpected surprise!

Logan took a deep breath, so nervous to finally reveal this secret that he’d been keeping from them for such a long time. He took Wade’s hand, then Althea’s and said:

“S’three blocks away from Gorani Market. Single floor, one bedroom, two bathrooms, no carpets, no stairs” He looked at Althea as he said this “Bump dots on the knobs n’appliances” Then he looked at Wade “Wade, I even got a bigger heated pad n’a larger bathtub, cus I noticed you do better with baths than showers, n’the bedroom has a lot of space for your, uh, pony things n’adventure time shit.”

Just before Althea and Wade could ask him ‘what about you?’ He then added, sounding quite excited in his own Logan way - which, to someone who didn’t know him, would sound more like slight amusement “n’ the best part is, s’even got a sunroom, a substantial kitchen n’a big yard.”

And just like that their question was answered.

Logan trailed off, then focused his gaze on the table. Neither of them were speaking, was this house a bad idea? Were they mad? Just as his thoughts began to spiral he stopped, took a calming breath and reminded himself that they loved him very much. They just needed time to absorb the information.

Curious, Althea asked “Why that area?”

“S’close to Beyong-Cheol, so you could visit him whenever you want. S’safer…cleaner…n’being closer to the market means shopping would be easier too” he looked at Wade as he said this. He also knew that she was sweet on Beyong-Cheol, but chose to keep that to himself.

“Why no stairs?” Althea loathed pity and ableism and in her opinion, both were the same damn thing. She hoped Logan’s decision wasn’t born from a misguided sense of concern.

Logan’s reply was honest “getting up n’down them each time you go out…I see you struggle n’I see the exhaustion, Althea. The stairs are keeping you prisoner n’it shouldn’t be that way. With the house, you can come n’go as you please.”

Ah, so it was concern, not born out of ableism or pity but purely from observation. She could live with that. She squeezed his hand and said gruffly “so you noticed. Damn, I thought I was doing a pretty good job of hiding it…”

Logan interrupted, “stress smells pretty strong….”

Damn the man and his sense of smell.

“Why two bathrooms?” Wade finally decided to join the conversation “is it so we have a backup toilet to use after my Friday night Taco Bell dinners?”

“No, dumbass, ones for Althea s’accessible.” Logan then said, in a calm tone trying to quell the rant that Althea had on the tip of her tongue “s’not cus I think you’re incapable, Althea, you’re spry n’tough as nails, jus’ thought you could use a little help.” he trailed off, realizing that continuing probably wasn’t helping his case.

Logan knew all too well how frustrating it was to have to tackle simple things like going to the washroom or getting changed when his body refused to cooperate during a heavy day. His heavy days were temporary, Althea’s age wasn’t. She was getting old and it was a fact he had to come to terms with, no matter how upset it made him.

Unbeknownst to him, Althea was also struggling with her age related limitations. The stairs that used to be so effortless now took so much energy. The presence of rails or a seat in the shower, though helpful, also forced Althea to acknowledge that age was catching up to her whether she liked it or not and it scared her. But it wasn’t death that frightened her so, it was the thought that one day she’d be leaving her boys behind. Her poor, immortal, boys.

Logan mistook her silence for offence and, hoping his analogy would help her understand his decision better, whispered softly “s’like my no spill cup. There if you need it, n’don’t use it if you don’t…” then he gave her a small smile that he knew she couldn’t see, but hoped she could feel it regardless.

Having had enough negativity and bad vibes for the day, she took on a more relaxed and mischievous tone “One bedroom, good to know you exercised common sense when designing the damn thing. See, I can’t sleep worth a damn if I can’t hear my boys. Can’t hear, can’t sleep.”

One bedroom, one bed. Sleeping with both her boys by her side. Thankfully that would stay the same. When she passed, they’d be right there to send her off. It was a comforting thought.

Logan lit up like the stars in the night sky, oh to hear that…it made him so happy he felt like his heart was going to burst.

“You’ll be sleeping in the bed too, I hope? I know you love your nest, but I think it’s time you stopped sleeping on that damn floor. It can’t be good for your back, baby.”

Sleeping in the same bed as Wade and Althea. It’d be like old times when he was up on that mountain, surrounded by his pack. Safe, warm and loved. Though it wasn’t really possible to build a proper nest on the bed, he’d be ok. He’d have Pup, and he’d have his mother and Wade. He’d have their scent, their presence and that was all he needed. A loud in-between of a chirp and a coo communicated his yes to Althea quite clearly.

“You’ve been pretty quiet, Wade.” Althea turned her head in what she assumed was his direction “cat got your tongue?”

Wade was still reeling from the idea of living in a house. A house would mean no more worrying about noise levels, no more cramped living conditions, no more fuck ass landlord specials…and a bigger heating pad? Oh my god, he was getting rock hard. But there was one thing about this entire situation that didn’t make sense to him.“Logan, I - we - are loving this, a lot, but, uh, quick fucking question. Why not just tell us right away? Why keep shit a secret until literally the last minute?”

“Building a house isn’t as simple as just picking an area n'saying ‘build there’.” Logan held up a finger for each item he listed “Ya need land, a house design, permits, n’it’s a slow process, Wade. Took me months, n’the only reason why the process was so fuckin’ quick was cus S.H.I.E.L.D expedited it. N’then you need to select the materials n’build the fuckin’ thing. It’s long, boring, frustratin’, n’complicated busy work. I wasn't even sure the house was gonna happen, so I didn’t wanna say anything.”

“I could’ve helped!” Wade insisted “I’m good at designing stuff!”

Logan simply gestured to the cluttered walls and mismatched counter tops, cabinets and decor, as if to say ‘you sure about that?’

“Ok, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, fuck you, and thirdly, fuck you.” Wade threw his hands up and leaned back in his chair “if you’re gonna get all anal about the decor then maybe I don’t wanna move anymore -“

Logan interrupted, knowing that Wade’s ‘anger’ was simply preformative and he was arguing for the sake of arguing “not sayin’ you can’t decorate. M’talkin’ bout the difference between hickory, cherry, n’alder for the cabinets or fuckin’ what material to use for the counters n’the floors. It matters, Wade.”

Then Wade made the mistake of asking what he thought was an innocent question “alright, alright, I give. But I just wanna ask one itty bitty thing, it can’t have just been the stairs, Lolo, that made you wanna leave so fucking badly.”

It was as if the question was the permission Logan was waiting for. He went off on an epic rant “I’ve fixed that-“ he pointed to the sink and said, teeth clenched “fucking sink two goddamn times in the last month n’a half! N’the cupboards just last week!”

Logan got up from his seat and pointed to the walls, then back at the sink and the washroom “the paint keeps peeling, the plumbing is fucked, everything keeps breaking n’I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried to get the fucking landlord to do his fucking job n’hire someone to fix this mess, n’that FUCK never listens.”

Agitated, Logan walked back and forth, gesturing with his hands. Clearly, these compounding issues had been taking their toll “can’t understand ASL, as if I haven’t tried communicating through written word - EAT SHIT!”

Althea opened her mouth to speak, but Wade silenced her with a whispered “no, let him cook.”

“Back in my day, shit was built to last! None of this delicate namby pamby tech bullshit that breaks if you look at it the wrong way. Men used to take pride in their craft - ”

Althea often forgot that Logan was far older than she was, because he often acted so much younger. But, sometimes Logan would go off on a rant, much like this one, or say something profound, and then she was once again reminded that she was the younger one. It was something she never got used to.

Meanwhile, Wade’s mind had started to wander and his gaze was now focused on the floor wow, he’s really worked up about the apartment. Man, I’m hungry, I wish I’d gotten a panini. Panini and a pop…Pop Mart…Labubu. I want a Labubu, wonder if Lolo would buy me one? I want the little vespa accessory. Maybe it’ll be an Italian Labubu. Hmmm Oh man, he’s still talking….come on Wade, try to look like you’re paying attention. Look up, there we go. Now focus…

Logan was now in the kitchen, opening and closing the cabinet doors. They squeaked something fierce “hear that, Althea? That’s the sound of my last speck of sanity fucking off. Good god, the fuck are these cabinets made of, balsa wood? Fuck me!”

“This has been bothering you for quite some time, baby” Althea tried to soothe, but it was too late, she and Wade had released the beast.

The rant went on for another half an hour before Wade finally put a stop to it by forcing a slice of frozen pumpkin into his mouth, a pat to his head and a very kind, but firm “we love you, but please shut the fuck up.”

Chapter Text

”They were just kids!”

In the corner of the bedroom, Logan was on his knees, bent over so low that his nose was touching the floor. Beside himself, untouchable and distressed, he let out a low keen as the post traumatic nightmare took hold.

It never got any easier, hearing that sound. Wade and Althea had awoken shortly after they heard Logan cry out and jumped into action. Their bodies on high alert and the grogginess of sleep forgotten. Logan needed them and that was all that mattered.

Althea was beside him, rubbing his bare back “it’s ok, Baby, you’re safe” she tried to soothe.

But it was fruitless, it always was. When it came to intrusive memories the only thing anyone could do was simply wait for the other to exhaust themselves, or, in the case of self injury, restrain them.

The bad memories wrapped around Logan’s heart and squeezed. He was openly sobbing now, and reaching for a body that only he could see.

Having experienced many of these himself, Wade was all too familiar with just how realistic and unforgiving they could be. It took a terrible memory of an event and re played it with it feeling so real that while in the throws of one, it was impossible for the sufferer to even tell that they were dreaming.

The absolute worst part for Wade and Althea was that these nightmares gave them both an up close and personal look at how Logan first discovered the mansion that day. It was a terrible way to discover something so personal about someone. From what they could piece together from his nightmares, it went like this:

After consuming enough alcohol to kill an elephant, a severely inebriated Logan stumbled back to the mansion, his senses dulled by the alcohol’s influence. The smell of blood, decay, gunpowder and fire hit him all at once the moment he stepped foot on the grounds. Logan then opened the gate and saw Jubilee’s body. He let out a wail, fell to his knees and tried to wake her up. He apologized over and over and over again, telling her he was ready to play those stupid video games she loved so much, just like he promised he would, but she had to wake up first so they could play.

They’ve heard it dozens of times and it never gets easier. The only bright side to this horrible situation was that the nightmare itself didn’t last very long as it only tended to take around 10 minutes for it to run its course and for Logan to fall back asleep.

But it was a very long, and distressing, ten minutes.

When the nightmare had concluded, Logan finally fell back asleep.

Then began their routine. Althea got back into bed and made herself comfortable, blankets pulled up to her chest while Wade scooped Logan up and placed him down in the middle of the bed, his head resting in her lap. Whether it was Logan or himself, Althea always preferred it this way as she needed to feel the weight of their presence to remind herself that they were there, they were safe and everything was ok, because in moments like these, Wade realized that they had become her version of Pup.

Wade fetched Pup from his nest and placed him into Logan’s arms. Unconsciously Logan curled around it as if to protect em’ in sleep while Wade tucked him in and then himself.

“I hate this” Althea said quietly. She ran her fingers through Logan’s hair and had to keep herself from crying. Enough tears had been shed tonight and she didn’t want to add to them.

Althea then growled out, it seemed that the stress of moving out and lack of sleep had finally compounded “I fucking hate it when it happens to you, too. It’s not fair! It’s not fucking fair that my boys gotta deal with this shit!” Logan’s brow furrowed as he reacted to her anger even in sleep.

Wade placed his hand on Logan’s upper arm and bit his lip. You deal with this shit too, ma Althea had been telling the truth about when she went blind and her aspirations of being a doctor. But she had lied about one very important thing, she wasn’t as ok with her blindness as she had led them to believe. Losing her sight had been traumatizing, and her post traumatic nightmares came in the form of the day she lost all her vision. Talking about it months back had re awakened some latent feelings that she had kept hidden for fifty long fucking years.

From what Wade and Logan had been able to piece together from her nightmares, it went like this:

She had woken up blind. It took a few seconds for her to properly comprehend exactly what was happening and when the reality of the situation finally sunk in, she was hit with an incredible amount of dread and fear. The first thing out of her mouth that day wasn’t a cry for help, but a scream. Althea cried, she fell out of bed, and tried to find the landline so she could call for help, but she was too discombobulated, and too scared to think clearly and thus the seemingly simple task of finding the phone had turned into a terrifying ordeal.

Trapped within this post traumatic nightmare, Althea would try to stumble out of bed to go find the phone. Thankfully, both he and Logan would wake upon her first scream and always stopped her from doing so. They would hold her, gently as they could, as she’d scream for help and simply let it play out.

They always kept quiet about it. They never told her that she’d get so scared she’d wet the bed, nor did they divulge the cleanup that’d come after. All of them were so familiar with the embarrassment that came with needing help in intimate ways that they always treated it with the utmost discretion. Logan needed help to the toilet on heavy days, and sometimes he even needed help changing. Wade’s high pain days were much the same and sometimes he’d need help bathing when the fear got too much for him to do it himself.

His gaze swept over the bedroom, most of their things in boxes and ready for tomorrow’s move to their new house. Voice shaking just a little, Wade whispered “I know.”

No one slept that night. Keeping silent watch over Logan’s sleeping form Wade’s grip on his upper arm tightened just a little. Tears in his eyes - hot and angry - Wade decided that Zander fucking Rice was going to die.

——-

Wade’s been in the business of killing people for a long, long time. He’s killed for the government, he’s killed for money, he’s killed for the good guys, but lately he’s been killing for himself.

Wade has a kill list.

Zander Rice
Donald Pierce
Bone Breaker
Mohawk
Macon
Pretty Boy

Kill lists are very, very delicate things, because one or two deaths can be passed off as a coincidence, more? Then that’s a pattern. But not if it’s done in a way that gives the illusion of an act of god. So, Wade is patient. He’s researched and tracked everyone on his kill list. He knows their schedules, their personalities, their vices, makes it easier to figure out how to make it look like an accident.

Like, for example, how most of the Reavers met their end via fatal motorcycle accidents due to ‘impaired driving’ and ‘speeding’.

Zander Rice, son of Dale Rice - the scientist that worked directly under the chief asshole Abraham Cornelius, both of whom died by Weapon X’s hand - is a creature of habit. He’s also a raging alcoholic, just like Logan used to be. And before the day is over, Zander Rice is going to take a swan dive from the top floor of the Essex Corporation building.

Wade knew that if Logan knew what he was doing, he’d be furious, but Logan would remain blissfully unaware as he had the last 5 times Wade has done this, because he’s taken every available precaution to keep this a secret.

Logan’s sense of smell was the biggest hurdle Wade struggled to work around, but in doing so it also made him much more cautious, which is never a bad thing.

Bagged and hidden in a thicket, off in a very out of the way spot, was a change of spare clothing, a high quality wig, hat and a medical mask. A Precaution just in case someone decided to pry into Zander's accident and comb through the CCTV footage.

Just like with the previous five jobs the disguise will be burned to ash, leaving the cops to forever be on a hunt for a person that doesn’t exist. As for fingerprints? He no longer has any. Hair on any part of his body? All gone. So very convenient.

Wade folded his clothing, placed it in the bag, and hid it, then took a deep breath and whispered to himself “let’s fucking go.”

—

The Essex Corporation, in the old timeline, was an organization that collected mutant DNA under the guise of being a mutant rehabilitation home and orphanage. The mutants were used for testing and control and were horribly abused. The Essex Corporation also owned Alkali-Transigen, the corporation that caused the mutant extinction and was responsible for the creation of new mutants, like Laura.

But in this timeline it became a pharmaceutical company of sorts, or at least that’s what it said on the website. As Wade finally got an up close and personal view of the very boxy looking eight story building he couldn't help but cringe. The minimalist design and corporate graphics made it look so utterly uninspired and boring that just looking at it made Wade depressed.

As he walked inside he saw that the majority of the interior was of the same boring minimalist design of the outside, just with a few fake plants thrown in. It was like he was standing in the building equivalent of a Tesla truck. The facility was small, and there were only a few people present.

Acting confident and normalizing one’s presence is a fantastic way to convince people to do shit they’d never normally agree to. This is made easier the more easily susceptible someone is or the less they care about the company/person/etc in general.

Wade leaned forward a little, keeping his weight on the counter to get in the receptionist's personal bubble and said, with a somewhat unkind tone “I’m Michael Williams. I’ve got an appointment with Mr.Rice at 2:00 PM.”

Tap, tap, tap, her long, perfectly manicured nails clacked on the keyboard. After a long moment she said, without looking at him “there’s no record of an appointment under that name or for that time, sir.”

Glassdoor reviews from former employees painted a not so great picture. The most common complaints were low pay, long hours and an extremely toxic workplace. He didn’t want to be unkind to her, but he didn’t have a choice. A kind visitor would be remembered, a mean one would be forgotten - just another Kevin in a sea of Karens, and if the sour look on her face was any indication, she had been dealing with a lot of Karens today.

So, Wade insisted, tapping his fingers on the counter in a slightly off beat rhythm as he did so. It was something he did sometimes that drove Logan and Althea insane and he was absolutely sure it’d drive this poor woman insane, too. “check again. I’m sure it’s in there.”

That steady off rhythm was working its magic. Her movements were becoming more stiff. She was irritated. “Once again, sir, I can’t find you in the system.”

He pushed, his tone becoming more nasty “I’ve come all this way, and I really must speak with him. Look. again.” just a little moooooore

“Sir, for the third time, you are not in the system, so I don’t know what you want me to say -“

Wade cut her off and pulled out his trap card “I want to speak to your manager.”

Oh, the look on her face was amazing. She pursed her lips, swallowed a great big sigh and deflated. What she wanted to say was ’you know what? Fuck you and fuck this job. I’m not paid enough to deal with this bullshit!’ what she ended up saying was “his office is on the eighth floor, sir. Have a great day.”

——

“Mr.Rice, it’s a pleasure to meet you again” Wade began, not allowing the man to speak. “We met at the Princess bar a few days ago and talked about some really interesting stuff. You told me to make an appointment -“

Zander Rice resembled a discounted Christopher Walken. He was wearing a three piece dark blue suit, with a white dress shirt and black tie with a silver clip.

Zander cut him off “I don’t remember any such thing and I certainly don’t remember your face.”

The Princess was a bar that Zander frequented once a day from 8 PM to 10 PM. Every single day he got drunk to the point of almost passing out, then he’d stumble home and do it all over again the next day.

“You got pretty deep into your cups so, I’m not too surprised you don’t remember me.” Wade made his way over to the bottle of cognac, making sure to act natural and distract him with talking. The end goal was to make Zander drunk to the point of barely being able to think clearly as he’d be more susceptible to suggestion and his judgment would be in the toilet.

But that would only work if he could get the man drunk. So, he fetched the glasses and the booze, sat down and poured one drink for himself, one for Zander and prayed that the man would take the bait “you were telling me about some big plans…how it wasn’t safe to talk in public due to pro mutant sentiment?”

He did. Without a moment’s hesitation, Zander knocked back the shot glass and let out a contented sigh “ah, yes. Right. I - It must’ve slipped my mind, my apologies.”

Wade knocked his back, too. Healing factors were very useful things, especially when it came to drinking. Didn’t matter how many shots he’d down, Wade Wilson wasn’t capable of getting drunk off of such low amounts, just as was the same with Logan.

About three drinks in, Zander started talking.

“My father….wrote in his diary of an incredible specimen he had been following in 1973. The creature could heal from anything…in fact-“ fascinated, Zander placed down his glass and leaned forward “he was found in the bottom of the lake, pierced through by rebar….but somehow he still breathed. Fascinating, isn’t it?” He sounded like he was talking about a prized pet.

Specimen. Whoo boy, here we go Wade thought to himself as he took another sip.

His Logan had explained to him, just as James Hudson had explained to Logan years and years ago, that he had found the abandoned facility Logan had escaped from, nearly a year after taking him in from the mountains. James had gotten a little curious about the chain link fence that surrounded the area and decided to cautiously do a bit of sleuthing.

Through the blood soaked halls and the torn up, decayed bodies, was a series of lockers lined up like trophies. Each had a name and a roman numeral of one through ten. Within the one labeled Logan - X, and covered in dust, was his dog tags, clothing, wallet, and a folder. Inside the folder was a copy of his dishonourable discharge papers.

The papers were quite illuminating. Possible nervous disorder or psychosis, violent nature, chronic alcohol abuse, but the most telling was two separate reports of critical wounds sustained while on duty, yet the man didn’t have so much as a scratch on his person.

No family, no friends, just a man wandering from bar to bar, town to town, getting drunk and then moving on. Someone no one would miss.

James decided to hold onto Logan’s things and the papers until he felt Logan was ready. But that day wouldn’t come for another three years. A long time to hold such a dark secret, but re-learning everything takes time.

“But that ungrateful cur chose to repay the gift my father gave him by killing him.” Happiness turned to bitterness in the blink of an eye. It was as if Zander viewed Logan as both a god and a monster.

Both Wade and Zander downed their drinks.

Wade poured him another.

And another.

And another.

“All is well….” Zander hiccupped “because I’ll prevent another tragedy like my father’s death from ever happening again.”

That didn’t take long without moving his head, Wade’s gaze swept around the room. The most expensive items within were the shot glasses, cognac and silver tie clip, everything else looked nice upon first glance, but if one knew what they were looking at, they’d know it was just cheap shit. This man was cosplaying at being wealthy.

This back and forth of drinking, talking and listening continued until Zander was right at that sweet spot between lucid and disorientated. It was at this moment that Wade chose to show his blade.

"Ah, yeah, the ol' put mutant suppressing drugs into the food, thing. Decimate the mutant’s from the inside out." fingers on the rim of the shot glass, Wade placed it down with a loud ‘thunk’.

Zander didn’t quite react the way Wade expected him to, because there was no overt surprise at being found out, but rather he seemed a little perplexed “It was considered, but I feel a different di-" though drunk, he still possessed enough thought to realize that Wade’s words were not right.

“Wait…how do you know that?” Everything was in its planning stages and nothing had been done yet. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to a single soul about his plans, nor had he put pen to paper. Then doubt started to sink in, had he spilled his secrets back at the bar?

Wade gave a silly little shrug, his tone dismissive and dangerous "I know lots of stuff.”

Confused, Zander Rice went to put his drink down but Wade said "ah ah ahhh” and guided the drink back to his mouth, forcing him to finish the glass.

"You know, what really gets me is that your whole retarded beef with Mutants was caused by your dad getting what he de -" he was cut off by Zander who screamed, his voice slurred by the alcohols influence

“My father took that ANIMAL and turned it into something magnificent, a weapon that would aid mankind; gave it purpose for something greater than itself.”

Wade's eyes narrowed.

“And what did that creature do?” his voice grew quieter as he stood, Zander swayed, unable to stand still “tore him to shreds. I’m merely doing what needs to be done and saving the populace, the innocents. Since it can not be controlled, then the mutant problem must be destroyed” the rest of the drink was knocked back and the shot glass fell from his fingers and shattered on the floor.

Zander clumsily sat back down with a hiccup.

"Mutant problem" Wade chortled "what in the aliexpress Hitler is this?”

His mirth was short-lived as it hit him all at once ’since it can not be controlled, then the mutant problem must be destroyed.’

Destroyed.

"They set the mansion on fire n’killed everyone” Logan said, his voice shaking. An in-between of a sob and a growl worked its way from his throat.

Destroyed

Logan let out a pained moan “some kinda suppression rounds….turned em human then…” with his fingers in the shape of a gun he let out a whispered ‘bang!’

Horrified, he then realized that the events of Logan’s world were doomed to repeat themselves in this one. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.

Wade’s expression darkened, emotions turning on a dime. He placed his hands on either side of Zander’s chair and leaned in until their noses were nearly touching "does it make your dick hard, thinking about your dear old daddy playing surgeon and drilling holes into Logan's face" he pointed at the inner corner of his left eye "right here. So he could put wires in his brain, make him easier to control?"

Zander paled. Wade relished in the man's discomfort and continued "does it make you giddy, thinking about him laying on a table, his arms being skinned to the elbow without anesthesia just so they could prod around and make a few 'improvements?'"

“That - that is not what happened. He did no such thing!“ Zander insisted, his voice shaking.

it did in Logan’s universe “Yes, he fucking did!” Wade said a little too loudly. Then Wade’s voice softened. He leaned in, breath ghosting Zander’s ear as he whispered "does it make you happy, thinking about how your daddy helped fuck Lolo's brain up permanently?"

Zander’s brows furrowed then he nearly choked as Wade forced another drink down his throat.

Though frightened, Zander repeated, voice slurring “He didn’t do that.”

Zander greatly looked up to his father and read Dale’s notes on his work at Weapon X as if they were the greatest of stories, eventually memorizing them. So, while it was true that the horrors done to Logan had not been performed on Logan Prime, to Wade it didn’t matter.

Because all Wade saw sitting before him was the child of a man who had done terrible things to the man he loved; a man who had, in another version of this universe, chose to wipe out mutants though GMO’s.

It didn’t matter that Zander hadn’t done anything yet. Just existing was enough for Wade to justify killing him. But the planning? That was just the icing on the shit cake. The whole family was rotten right down to the core.

Wade tossed the cup aside, it shattered on the carpet. He leaned back and placed both hands on the desk as he still faced Zander "he had to re-learn how to read. How to speak. Sometimes his brain gets fucky and he can't speak at all.”

Then he stopped talking and chose to observe him like a predator sizing up prey.

Zander was too drunk to comprehend most of it. His vision was blurring and his thoughts were like liquid through a sieve.

“………..what?” Zander was so confused, what was this man talking about?

He took Zander by the arm and pulled him up "lets go for a walk.”

Zander wobbled and struggled to stand and it took him a long moment to finally find his footing. Wade knew, from Logan’s own little drunken days back in his first month, that once they were drunk enough, you could get alcoholics to do damn near anything you wanted them to.

As he walked with Zander to the roof of the building, he made sure to walk side by side as to make it look less suspicious. To anyone viewing the CCTV footage all they’d see was two men heading to the roof together, maybe for a smoke or for some air.

Wade continued to talk "your dad was a psychotic piece of shit that helped ruin a good man's life because his boss wanted a weapon. That's it. He got what he fucking deserved, just like you will too.”

The door to the roof opened and Wade none too gently gave him a push forward. Zander stumbled, nearly falling, but managed to catch himself. He looked very reminiscent of a newborn learning to walk for the very first time.

The roof's edge was six very big steps away.

Wade took a step forward "Sometimes he has intrusive memories so violent that he'll mutilate himself. You have no idea -" Wade spat "how awful it is to have to restrain someone you love so they'll stop ripping their eyes to shreds trying to get rid of wires that aren't even there anymore!"

“I didn’t even do anything!” Zander Rice eked out. He had turned around to face Wade, keeping his hands visible as he took a big step back.

“Yet. You didn’t do anything yet. But you will.” Wade took a step forward, his gaze holding nothing but pure hatred. It was like looking into the eyes of a predator. Zander took another step back.

“His name is James Logan Howlett. You killed him once and I won’t let you do it again!”

“You’re not making any sense!” Zander slurred, taking a wobbly third step back. He was halfway to the roof's edge and totally unaware.

Wade took two big steps forward with a snarl “Not, ‘it’, not ‘creature’ or ‘specimen’ or ‘weapon’, HE".

It was becoming apparent to Zander that he was going to die by the hand of a crazed man who somehow got it into his head that he had done harm by mere thought alone in lieu of action. It made no sense, it was insane.

“What the nine hells are you talking about?!” He cried out, now one step away from the roof's edge.

Wade was very careful to keep physically far enough away from Zander so that if anyone on the street was looking up, he wouldn’t be seen, thus making it look like Zander had drunk himself into a psychotic episode.

“Stay away!” Zander screamed in terror.

Not a word was uttered as Wade took his last big step forward, eyes full of hatred.

Zander took a big step back and right over the edge he went with a scream, falling eight stories down to the ground below and hitting the pavement with an unceremonious splat.

"Good fucking riddance.”

“You’ve been busy, Mr.Wilson” B-15’s voice appeared before she did. Wade turned to see her standing a safe distance away, tempad in hand. The door slowly faded before disappearing completely.

He let out a dramatic ‘uuuuuuuuuuugh!’ then said “try me, bitch. Just cus’ sugar bear likes you doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass! These hands are rated E for everyone” daring her to try and take him in or do whatever it was she came to do.

“That’s not why I’m here. You see, Mr. Wilson, we’ve been keeping an eye on y-“

Wade interrupted, frostily “now you bureaucratic fucks don’t have to worry about Lolo passing away again. I fixed the fucking problem; did your job for you, you lazy bastard.” He pointed to the edge of the building, at the bottom was Zanders corpse “so, you’re fucking welcome.”

“There’s been a profound series of misunderstandings” B-15 began softly “firstly, the title of Anchor Being doesn’t just refer to one singular person in this universe. You see, Mr.Wilson, when you both formed the circuit to bridge the matter and antimatter, you were destroyed and reformed in such a way that the both of you became part of the other. Wade you both share pieces of each other. You are different but the same. Two halves of a whole. Both of you are this timelines Anchor Being.”

His brows furrowed, the information slowly setting in and his mind was flooded with realizations.

There had been times when Wade had wondered how it came to be that he knew exactly what Logan was thinking and feeling while in his feral state. Or how he knew exactly what each grunt, growl and snarl meant as if it was a second language. Sure, Althea knew what coo’s and chirps ment, somewhat knew how to handle feral!Logan, but it wasn’t the same complete understanding that he had. A part of himself, deep down, had known that something about them was different. Now he knew why; now he could put a name to it.

It also explained how Logan knew exactly when he was in a bad way or what food to make. Wade just assumed it was all due to smell and hearing, but thinking back on it, that couldn’t be the case. Smell couldn’t tell Logan when Wade woke up nauseous and needed a lighter breakfast, when he wanted hot chocolate in the morning instead of water. Nor could it tell him when he was in pain either emotionally or physically before he himself had time to put a name to it. Logan just seemed to know.

The closer they got to one another, the stronger these feelings became. It was wonderful.

“Secondly, I’m not here to arrest you. I wanted to tell you that your actions, though questionable, are appreciated. This new timeline is quite special, you understand, as there has never been an instance of two people sharing the title of Anchor Being.” She looked toward the edge of the roof where Zander fell, then back up to Wade “Your feelings of love are real, if that’s what you’re worried about. The connection has no effect on that.”

“I’m not worried.” Wade simply said, putting an end to the conversation.

B-15 saw his relaxed body language as he walked toward her, arms crossed and far from impressed. When he stopped directly in front of her, he spat “you know, if this timeline is so special then why didn’t you just get rid of them yourself? Why the fuck did I have to do all the dirty work?”

“I am forbidden from interfering with timelines directly. I can only observe, or, in cases such as this, offer my thanks.” B-15’s friendly demeanour left a bad taste in his mouth. She had taken a wonderful moment of celebration and ruined it with her presence.

“Right. And the fucking Void exists cus reasons, give me a fucking break.” It was always the same with these types of people, from the government, to the military, cops and the TVA, they punished the ones who ‘didn’t play nice’ but were perfectly content to bend those rules when it suited them just fine.

“The fuck were you planning to do if I didn’t kill these pricks? Were you gonna just sit on your ass and watch it all burn again?”

“I can sometimes nudge in the right direction…” she hinted, her voice gentle and soothing never once rising to match Wade’s “You must understand that sacrifices must be made in order for optimal conditions to be met and thrive.”

“That’s why you didn’t do jack shit when Logan was dying” eyes narrowed he said, voice dangerously low “and you shouldn’t be anywhere near this timeline“ the words she spoke that day repeated back to her “was what you said to Lolo. You looked genuinely surprised. You’re a really good actor, you know that?”

Hurt flashed in her eyes for a split second before being covered up with that serene calm “I wasn’t acting. I just wasn’t aware. This is bigger than you and Logan can possibly imagine, bigger than anyone could possibly comprehend.”

Shortly after the events of Logan’s arrival, B-15 had been summoned to the judges council by Gamble, her superior and advisor, Mobius and most surprisingly, Stephen Strange were also present and it was there that the terrible truth had been laid out before her.

The Sorcerer Supreme had foretold that a terrible threat was coming, and in order to deal with said threat they needed the right people in the right spot at the right time.

The previous Anchor Being of Earth-10005, Logan Prime, was not present in the winning future that Stephen had seen, instead it had been another Logan - this Logan - that had been present. X-23's creation, Logan prime’s death, Paradox’s defection, Wade’s rebellion, the time ripper, it was all allowed because it had already been set in stone. And though it all, she had been blissfully unaware.

“Was any of this -“ arms outstretched he gestured in the direction of where Zander’s body rested below “my choice? Or did you fucking ‘nudge me’ in the right direction?’”

“Your choice” she smiled, opening a time door “we don’t know why you decided to go this route, but we are very thankful. Many lives have been saved thanks to you and it has saved us a lot of trouble. If you don’t mind me asking” she began, watching as Wade walked past her and towards the door. She followed, keeping a step behind “what prompted this?”

As if it was the most obvious answer in the entire world, Wade replied “because I love him.” Then he stopped just short of the door, turned around and added, his voice low and dangerous "because he listens. Because he cares. Because he looks at me like I'm the most handsome thing he's ever seen. He takes care of me and Althea, does so much for us and asks for nothing in return. So, I think its the bare fucking minimum on my end to clean up the trash. If you or anyone in the TVA makes my man cry I'll fucking kill all of you and that's a promise."

Calmly, B-15 replied "duly noted, Mr.Wilson."

Together they walked though the time door and out of sight.

Chapter Text

4 AM

In an Alberta king bed, Logan, Althea and Wade slept. Althea was on the right, closest to the door. She was on her back and wore a purple bonnet and a silk purple nightgown. On his stomach, both wrists splinted and stuck in a downward position, with pup cuddled in the cook of his arm, was Logan. He wore a pair of black sleep pants and a loose dark blue shirt with a picture of three wolves howling at the moon. On the left was Wade, surrounded by plushies and clad in hello kitty pink Pj’s.

6 AM

Logan was a very light sleeper. His time in the army, with Weapon X and living in the wild had hardwired his brain to be extremely hypervigilant. This was great for being on the go, but not so great for domestic living. Though if he was heavily injured, or went without the necessary amount of calories for too long, his body would often put him into a very deep sleep for several days to recover.

Logan’s days always started at 6 AM on the dot. Careful not to wake the other two, he brought each splinted wrist to his mouth and quietly peeled off the velcro straps. Once both wrists were free he neatly put the splints on his pillow beside Pup and slowly crawled backwards until he was off the bed, and as quiet as could be, walked out of the room and gently closed the door behind him.

It was no secret that Wade had an intense hatred of the wrist splints. The hard, stiff, and uncomfortable material looked less like help and more like an oppressive tool designed to keep Logan in his place. Logan didn’t see it like that, however.

Logan sat on the couch, hands clasped together and resting on his lap “s’not like that, Red. I didn’t jus’ sleep n’my nest cus I liked it, I did it to keep everyone safe. M’nightmares are dangerous, n’I’ll never be able to forgive myself if I hurt either of you” He trailed off, looking away at the wall as he found himself unable to look Wade in the eye.

“But you haven’t” Wade got off the couch and knelt down in front of him “you haven’t hurt anyone, and you won’t. You don’t need some oppressive bullshit to keep you in line.”

“Just’cus it hasn’t happened doesn’t mean it won’t.” He replied, eerily calm, finally meeting Wade’s eyes “I want this.”

Though Wade didn’t agree with the usage of the splints, and just the sight of them made him terribly uneasy and disgusted, he knew that in the end, it was Logan’s body and Logan’s choice.

Mouth set in a thin line, Wade nodded “ok, Logan. But just to be clear….no one talked you into this? I want your word that this is your choice and no-one else’s.”

“S’my choice.” Logan gave Wade a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes “you got my word, darlin’. Gonna need help puttin’ them on though, so you willin’ to help me?”

Wade instantly knew what Logan was doing, he was giving him control. Helping Logan put them on each night would slowly reframe them within Wade’s mind, turning them from an item of oppression into one of help and calm.

“Yeah” Wade whispered “yeah. I’d like that.”

He turned the corner and walked down the hall and into the sun room. It was filled with various plants, flowers, pillows and blankets and was surrounded by windows on all sides. A nest was set up in the furthest corner, isolated and out of sight. The energy within was one of piece, relaxation and safety and served as a safe space for Logan to retreat to whenever he was feeling shitty or simply needed to be alone.

Logan sat down in the middle of the room. Back straight, legs in the lotus position. For this single hour, within his little personal sanctum, Logan meditated. Each breath out took with it the negativity of the previous day and each breath in bathed him in the scents of nature and home and allowed a calm to wash over him.

7 AM

Mary awoke and Althea and Wade’s breathing began to change, signalling that they were beginning to wake. Logan opened his eyes and stretched. It was time for breakfast. On his way to the kitchen, he passed by the living room.

Their old couch was up against a yellow accented wall, and Althea’s favourite recliner was off to the left facing the flatscreen TV. Mary’s dog bed was beside her recliner, resting on top of a my melody mini rug.

Logan’s guitar was in it’s stand next to the sideboard. On top of said sideboard was a record player. Within the two soft close drawers was an impressive vinyl collection and sheet music. The walls were white and covered in floating shelves that displayed various brick a brack.

Wade went from room to room, inspecting every inch and while he was pleased with the massive amount of space they now possessed compared to the apartment, he could help but notice that ”all the walls are white.”

Wade poked his head into the hallway as he exited the bedroom “why the fuck are they white?”

Light floors, white walls. All this money only to go total beige mom? Where was the whimsy? Where was the pizzazz? It was so……boring.

Logan chuckled as he helped Althea in, with her left hand she held onto Logan’s arm and with the right she held her white cane. Puppin’s gave an enthusiastic woof! as she ran around their feet then toward Wade like an undercooked rotisserie on speed “it’ll look a lot better once we get everythin’ set up n’decorated. Less visually busy n’chaotic. You’ll see.”

Wade didn’t seem too convinced, he raised a brow, shook his head and insisted “it wasn’t busy, it had character.”

Logan grunted, but there wasn’t any energy behind it “Alright, alright, how bout’ this. Once we get our shit all sorted, n’everything put away, if you still don’t like it, I promise I’ll repaint the fuckin’ walls in whatever colours you n’Althea want.”

Wade seemed pleased. Althea simply shook her head a little and said “That’s sweet of you, Baby, but you know I can’t see a damn thing. Pretty pointless in asking my opinion.” she gave his hand a pat.

“Doesn’t matter.” He returned the pat with an equal amount of tenderness “s’your house too, n’you should get a say even if you can’t see it.”

In the end, the living room stayed pretty much the same but with a single goldenrod accented wall. The bedroom was painted a pretty lavender, one of Althea’s favourite colours, and the dining room a nice earthy green.

The click clack of Mary’s nails echoed as she ran into the kitchen. Logan placed her sparkly pink food dish down, filled with homemade dog food, and chuckled as she proceeded to wolf it down like she hadn’t been fed in years.

As Logan filled the pie shell with apple rhubarb filling, Wade said, incredulous “turns out the fuckers a goddamn car selling prodigy. Can you believe this shit?”

Logan had not been lying when he’d said the kitchen was substantial. It was big and bright with Hickory cabinets, porcelain counter tops, and maple hardwood flooring. The drawers were well organized and the area spotless.

Once he was done pouring, without looking, Logan handed the bowl and spatula over to Wade who then practically ripped it out of his hands in excitement. It wasn’t exactly a secret within the household that Wade only tended to hover while Logan was cooking because he always got to lick the bowl or, in rare cases, taste test. He licked the spatula clean then started on the bowl “best employee ever, Peter said. Traitor.”

There was a lot of bitterness in that tone. It made Logan very happy that Wade was trying to be less violent toward humans, but he knew that a small part of that bitterness came from the fact that Spencer was thriving and because of that, Wade couldn’t go and beat the man half to death even though he really, REALLY, wanted to. After all, Wade really wasn’t the type to forgive and forget.

Logan grunted in reply. A simple lattice top was laid down and then he began to decorate on top of that with meticulously cut out flowers, leaves and pumpkins. Sometimes Logan would get into moods where he’d be quite content to spend hours decorating a pie or creating dishes only to have them be devoured quickly thereafter. Wade never quite understood the appeal, but who was he to complain of such deliciousness?

Logan laid out the ingredients and utensils, turned on the stove and let out a quiet chirp. Today he was making Kimchi pancakes with a side of leftover rice and cut up tomatoes and cucumbers.

The goal was to reduce their bad eating habits without making dishes that were boring or tasted like shit. His clever trick of hiding veggies in meat had worked wonderfully, and Althea’s blood pressure was getting back under control. It helped immensely that both Wade and Althea were adventurous eaters, it allowed him to experiment to his heart's content.

It also filled him with a sense of pride whenever he watched his family wolf down his creations. He loved the smiles on their faces, the way they savoured each and every bite and thanked him after each meal. It made him want to experiment more, to work harder and do better.

7:30 AM

Like clockwork, Wade and Althea walked into the dining room just as he took his seat at the table. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes and let out a big yawn

The earthy green walls of the dining room were paired with natural oak flooring that lit up the space. Their old table was placed a little off to the side near the window. Logan sat on the right nearest the window with Althea sitting across from him. Wade no longer faced the door, now content to sit with his back to it and facing his family. The Beretta M9 remained taped under the table in its usual spot and there it would remain, just in case.

Logan said “Your cup is at 9 O’clock and the cutlery is at 3. Thought I’d try somethin’ new” he paused for a moment, allowing them to wake up a little more “kimchi pancakes, n’rice with veg on the side.”

He was never going to be an outgoing and extroverted person, but he now was no longer burdened by the invisible collar and shame that weighed him down. He was his own person, with his own wants, needs and interests. The date with Wade at the Central Park zoo months ago had shown Logan that his found family would never judge or shut him down for expressing his needs or talking about his interests.

It was wonderful to finally be able to relax.

“Sounds lovely, Baby. Thank you.” Althea yawned. She ate slowly, but seemed to be enjoying every bite, which was something Logan never got sick of seeing.

Just like Mary, Wade tended to wolf down his food. Logan wasn’t really sure why he did that. Outside of the odd mission, Wade didn’t really work anymore, he didn’t need to. So Logan just chocked it up to impatience.

With a mouth full of food, Wade said his thanks, too.

8:30 AM

“Wade, I can hear you squealing from here” Althea was in her recliner, pastel purple cashmere blanket draped over her legs and a contracted braille book (or brick, as Wade liked to joke) open on her lap. She paused in her reading “what’s got you all worked up?”

“It’s finally happened. Oh my god, it’s finally fucking happened” he looked heavenward, hands in the praying position “thank you Jesus.”

“Wade…” she said, annoyed. Due to the shorthand contractions and letter combinations, to save space and increase the speed of both reading and writing, reading contracted braille took a lot of concentration, something she wasn’t able to get with the sound of Wade’s enthusiastic clapping and jumping.

“Lolo and Mary are matching.” He squealed, excitement rolling off of him in waves.

That got her attention “….what are they wearing?” She said, trying not to sound too interested, but she couldn’t fool him.

As Logan got Mary into her glittery purple harness, Wade said, practically vibrating on the spot “Mary’s wearing her glittery tutu and top, red cowboy boots and hat. And Logan’s wearing a red plaid shirt, jeans, boots and a brown fucking cowboy hat. Uuuuugh oh my god his dog tags and compression gloves fit so good. it’s giving me major cuteness aggression!”

Wade was wearing an adventure time t-shirt with a dark green cardigan over top, a pair of grey sweatpants and plain white socks. Althea was in her usual dark purple track suit with a white shirt underneath and pink socks.

Though she didn’t say it out loud, Althea most certainly agreed as she bookmarked her page and closed the book.

Logan corrected, tone relaxed though a little sharp as he stood up “cattlemen, dumbass. Not cowboy hat.”

Like a true Alberta boy, Logan’s preferences leaned toward a more western influenced style of dress. After their date at the Central Park Zoo, it was like a switch had been flipped. The more relaxed and settled he became, the more his outfits began to change and eventually he began to spend money on himself instead of buying outfits second hand.

This also extended to Mary. He had two pairs of cowboy booties and three lil’ cattleman hats made for her in red, purple and yellow.

”There we go, lookin’ pretty as peaches, Mary; like a proper Alberta girl” Logan said as proud as could be as he got the last boot on and straightened the hat on her wrinkly head. He was never the type to squeal or gush over shit, but those who knew him best could always tell when he thought something was particularly delightful, it was the way his features would soften and his eyes would glitter.

That ear huggy was bothering him, though. it was particularly appalling, in his opinion, that Nicepool had pierced her ear. The gold ear huggy seemed to be just a little too heavy for her, so, with the utmost tenderness, he removed it with a whispered sorry, bracing himself for the inevitable yelp of pain that would follow.

As if summoned, Wade sped walked from the kitchen toward him “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. I don’t want this fucking dog, I must’ve misheard you. Alberta girl? psh, she’s my variant! - wait…what’s wrong?” Wade knelt down next to Logan and placed a hand on his shoulder, the rant dying on his tongue the moment he saw Logan’s shocked expression.

“She’s like us” Logan whispered in awe as the small holes on her ears closed up. Another name added to the list of forever next to Wade's and his own. It made him so happy.

The universe that Nicepool and Mary had hailed from, had considered them a pair. As both of them couldn’t possess a healing factor, it was Mary that had gotten it in his stead. Both Logan and Wade had, had suspicions that this was the case but neither had the heart to test it out.

“Oh…OH! OH MY GOD!” Wade exclaimed. He picked her up and showered her with kisses “That’s my girl! That’s my darling goblin girl!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry your hooten and hollerin’ majesty, I’ll get it right next time.” Wade said with a mock bow.

Logan grunted in reply. He turned to address them as he placed the noise cancelling headphones over his ears “Takin’ Mary for a walk. Either of you need anything?”

“No” they replied in unison.

Just as he was about to leave, Logan turned around to address Wade. Mary let out a delicate woof!

“While m’out, could you please do the dishes, Wade?” Logan knew that he’d have a better chance at getting a brick wall to bend but it never hurt to ask. Maybe today would be the day that he’d comply?

“Thought you didn’t want me doing them after I cleaned your cast iron pan, mr.how the fuck could you do this? Christ on a bike, you acted like I back handed Mary into the wall.” Said Wade with a pout. He also sounded genuinely confused by the request.

Logan let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose “ya didn’t clean it, Wade, ya took off the seasoning. Took me ages to get it just fuckin’ right.”

“It’s just a pan” Wade snapped.

“S’just a pony” Logan retorted, referring to his Pinky Pie collection.

With a gasp, Wade put a hand over his heart and narrowed his eyes “Pinky isn’t just a pony, she’s a whole ass mood, you fucker!”

They stared at each other, eyes locked in a battle of wills. They remained like this for several long moments, saying so much without saying a single word, until Althea’s voice cut through, snapping them out of it.

“Holy fuck, this is the dumbest fucking argument I’ve ever been privy to” she got up, holding her book under one arm and white cane with the other. She mumbled, slowly walking past them and toward the sun room “never gonna finish my goddamn book with you two yapping. Damn.”

It was a dumb argument. Logan took a calming breath "look, don’t worry bout' the pan or the knives. Jus' wash everything else, n'i'll do the rest when I get home."

Then, he added, as a sweet - in a figurative and literal sense - incentive “Do the dishes n’I’ll bring you back a treat.”

“Bribery? My dear Peanut, I thought that kinda shit was beneath you.”

Logan shook his head no “you damn well know it an’t.”

From the hallway, Althea yelled out “I want a treat, too!”

9:30 AM

The first month in this new area went about as well as he expected. His inability to speak around civilians had created a barrier in communication between himself and others. This made some things challenging and others irritating.

”It’s likely permanent” Beast said, turning in his chair to face Logan, the latter of whom was pacing anxiously back and forth “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, Logan. I’m sorry.”

Logan flapped his hands and growled but said nothing. He felt so overwhelmed and discouraged. He was supposed to get better! Not stay stagnant forever.

“You might find therapy to be beneficial, my friend. It won’t solve the issue, and the mutism will likely persist, but it will help in other ways. At least give it some consideration before saying no.”

That consideration lasted 0.2 seconds before Logan stuck him with an awful glare and angrily spat “don’t need therapy! S’just mind over matter. M’jus’ bein’ a goddamn pussy, that’s all this fuckin’ is!” shame radiated off of him in waves.

Beast rose from his chair and walked toward Logan, his jaw tightened and gaze narrowed in upset. Sounding disappointed and displeased with how poorly Logan spoke of himself, he growled “You know that’s not true, Logan. You wouldn’t say that to Wade or Althea, or anyone else here, and rightfully so. So, why say -“

Logan interrupted him, the shame within turned into white hot anger. He hit the wall with the back of his fist, causing a loud bang to echo throughout the lab and leaving a sizeable dent in his wake“ CUS THEY’RE DIFFERENT!” Then softer “they’re not me. fuckin’ fought n’World War 1, World War fuckin’ 2, Goddamn Nam! m’tougher than this, Henry, m’strong!”

Then, it was as if all the anger evaporated, leaving him sad and unsure. Logan looked at the floor, his voice nearly a whisper “at least I thought I was…”

Beast rose from the chair and walked over to Logan. He enveloped the older mutant in a hug and let out a comforting purr “you are strong, Logan. You’ve been through so much, far more than anyone would have to endure in a single lifetime. Your selective mutism isn’t weakness, it’s your brains way of protecting itself. Give yourself the grace you afford to others.”

When shopping with Wade, he used ASL. With Althea, he used his communication cards. When he was alone and around human civilians who didn’t know ASL he used a pocketbook and pen. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it was a massive inconvenience at times. Especially after he had learned that cursive had been slowly phased out of schools, leaving many unable to read his writing.

The rant he unleashed once he had gotten back to the apartment had been legendary.

Due to Wade’s dyslexia, Logan found that cursive and his man didn’t mix, so he had switched to block letters when leaving notes for Wade. Thus, this was the writing style he had ultimately settled on when communicating via paper and pen when out and about.

Thankfully some shops had made an effort to be accommodating, which he greatly appreciated. Others, not so much.

The area where he lived was mainly populated by small, family owned businesses and an unusual amount of trees and nature as opposed to the concrete jungle where he and his family used to live. An unusual amount of mutants found homes here due to the fact that the humans in this area tended to either be very welcoming or kept to themselves and hardly paid anyone outside of their small circle any heed.

Logan was not a spontaneous man, as spontaneity brought with it danger and anxiety. Thus, every day he would walk the same route, greet and see the same people and do his daily routine without fail.

The elderly Filipino human couple who ran the flower shop near his house were the first to always greet him. They were named Isagani and Adarna. Isagani was built like Santa Claus, with his big belly and joyful personality. His long grey hair was pulled back into a long ponytail.

His wife was also quite round and she reminded Logan of the sun. Her grey hair was braided and went down to the small of her back. They both favoured bright colours and loved to adorn their style of dress with flowers and smelled like sunsilk and papaya. For the six months he’d lived in this area of town, Logan had only seen them unhappy on the one occasion after their flowers had been destroyed by a little racist punk trying to play at being tough. He and Wade scared him straight, though, and it never happened again.

Logan tipped his hat in greeting and signed ‘good morning’. Mary yipped her good morning alongside him.

They waved back. Isagani cheerfully cried out “Good Morning, Lo!” Then, glancing at Mary “Good morning, Mary. You are looking very cute today.”

This made Mary very happy, and she preened, holding her head high and showing off her cattleman hat and lil booties, trotting around in a circle as if to say ‘look at me! Adore me! PRAISE ME HARDER!’. She was definitely Wade’s variant, that was for sure.

Logan signed ’she says thank you’ the old him, the miserable cunt that spent his days drunk and in pain, would’ve never even entertained the thought of speaking for a pet. Didn’t matter that he had a deeper connection with animals and was able to understand them on a level that most humans could only dream of, he just kept that shit to himself.

But the current him secretly enjoyed speaking for the animals, especially Mary. Not that he’d ever admit it, however. But, it wasn’t exactly a well hidden secret either as he wasn’t being particularly subtle about it.

“She is very smart!” Isagani replied.

Logan signed ’the smartest!’ and waved goodbye, quickening his pace. Usually he would stay and ‘chat’ but he had someone to meet.

Then there was Raymond, the white middle aged man who ran every morning and every evening. He looked completely unremarkable in every way and was uninterested in the people around him. He smelled like raspberry jam and sweat. His Dragon Ball Z socks peeked through his sweats on occasion, hinting at a love for anime.

Lastly was Amanda. She was a white human that spent each morning at the cafe with a croissant and coffee. No one was really sure if she was people watching or spacing out as she stared ahead in-between bites and sips, but no one wanted to ask, so they left her alone. She smelled of paint and pears and wore a simple white button down dress shirt and black pencil skirt with black dress shoes.

10 AM

The dog park wasn’t too big, nor was it too small, allowing the owners and their dogs plenty of space to stand around and play in. There were some humans present but they were spaced out and far enough away that Logan could talk with his friend without fear of going mute.

On the bench and head buried in a book was a feral named Ox. Fox subspecies. He was around 25, average height and weight. He had short, swept back amber brown hair. He wore a loose cream coloured button up shirt with rolled up sleeves, pale blue linen pants and slip on light yellow loafers. He smelled of spearmint and citrus and had a messenger bag resting beside him with a small trans flag sewed onto the front surrounded by various buttons and enamel pins.

Like all fox subspecies, the skin on his hands and feet, halfway up to his forearms and shins, was three shades darker than his olive skin tone. He also had amber eyes and eczema, a condition that was quite common among fox subspecies.

Logan sat down beside him and unhooked Mary’s leash from her harness. She shot off like a little rocket and toward Oakley. Logan took a quick curious glance at the book cover then looked away, keeping an eye on Mary.

Ox’s dog was Oakley, the cream coloured mastiff. Oakley was a soft and anxious boy that was easily pushed around by other dogs. He and Mary got along though, because her small size made him feel less anxious and she seemed to treat him with a surprising gentleness almost as if she knew on some level that she needed to be careful with him.

Logan was more than happy to let Ox finish reading. Having lived in nature on and off for the last 200 years made him appreciate it in all it’s splendour and notice things that people often missed.

Ox closed the book with a snap after around ten minutes and handed it to Logan “Walden. I think you’ll find this to be pretty interesting.”

Logan took the book in one hand and gave a slight lift of the brim of his hat in thanks with the other. Last time he’d read it had been during WW2 - it was one of the only things he had managed to hide from Victor. Victor had many rules, one of which was that If it wasn’t given to him by the army or by Victor himself, then he wasn’t allowed to keep it and breaking that rule came with extremely painful consequences.

Sadly the latter had found it hidden under his pillow shortly after he finished it and beat him unconscious before ripping it to shreds. How would his new life and experiences since then change his opinions and feelings of Walden? Logan couldn’t wait to discuss it with Ox next week.

He then opened his messenger bag and took out another book, holding it up for Logan to see. It was The Old Man and the Sea, Logan’s recommendation. “Been seeing a bit of a pattern with the last six books you’ve recommended…you really like Hemingway don’t you?”

Logan gave a small nod.

They had quickly developed a strange little book club of sorts. Once a week they’d meet at the dog park and take turns recommending a book to the other before starting a discussion about the previous book that was recommended. Today they were discussing The Old Man and the Sea.

Ox returned Logan his book and said “Life and death…that's what I got out of it. The marlin is life, the sharks are death and Santiago represents the human need to struggle against the inevitability of death. I was shocked silly. Couldn’t put the damn thing down and read it all in one sitting” He abruptly stopped talking and looked at Logan with an awkward smile, curious to hear his opinion.

Logan placed both books on his lap then crossed his arms and thought for a moment “I felt it was more a story bout’ perseverance. Santiago’s a stubborn sonofabitch’ n’I found it interestin’ that he coulda given up that marlin to the sharks at any time, but refused to budge. Pretty respectable I think, even if, by the end, he was fightin’ a loosin’ battle. But sometimes that’s how it goes…ya sink your teeth in n’ne-n’never let……..”

Logan trailed off, his sensitive hearing picking up the tell tale honk and shuffle of a rabbit. Leaving the book behind on the bench, he slowly got into a crouch and then on all fours.

But it wasn’t just him that was distracted by the small mammal, Ox, Oakley and Mary were, too. Ox’s and Logan’s eyes were blown and their noses twitched, their feral mindset had come to the forefront and soon they, along with their dogs, were all stalking the rabbit as a pack.

The humans looked at them with disgust, some with confusion and others fear, many decided to take their dogs and leave. But, neither of the two feral’s noticed because they were way too invested in the hunt.

They had quickly gotten close to the rabbit without alerting it. Just as Ox and Logan were about to descend upon it, big gentle Oakley stepped on a twig. The loud snap caused the bunny to look up, and the moment it spotted them, it froze for a quick moment before taking off as if the flames of hell were licking at its heels. All four of them ran after, zooming through the grass like little bullets. Ox went to the left, Logan to the right, Mary followed Oakley as he ran straight, her little yips and barks of encouragement kept Oakley confident and on the chase.

In the end, it was Ox that had caught the prey. He and Logan ran around on all fours a little longer as their inner feral wasn’t quite done yet with the hunt. It ended so quickly, like it was over in a flash and that left their inner feral unsatisfied.

Thus two squirrels and a bird were added to the kill pile.

11:10 AM

Logan laid on his tummy, Ox was on his back, the animals on the kill pile pulled apart and split between the four of them, dressed before consumption. Even in his feral state, Logan had remembered the verbal lashing he received from Althea last year after Wade told her about his little rabbit meal and the effects of the deworming pill he had been forced to take. It had been horrendous and wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience ever again.

“EATING PREY RAW WITHOUT DRESSING IT?!” Althea thundered, whacking Logan’s ankles with her white cane five times in quick succession “LOGAN HOWLETT, ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR GODDAMN MIND?!”

Logan shot Wade a nasty glare. Fucking narc.

Wade awkwardly slid the deworming pill into a spoonful of smooth peanut butter then moved to stand beside Althea. He held it out for Logan to take “Open wide, Peanut.”

Medications for Feral’s were similar to the one’s their animal counterparts used, though with some obvious modifications that made them faster acting and far more potent. Thus what would normally require multiple rounds of deworming pills only took one.

“Don’t need it” Logan turned his head away, refusing to take the pill, his voice was quiet and weak much like the voice a child would use when trying to stand up to their parents after doing something stupid “hunted n’ate with my pack for years. Didn’t have worms then, don’t have em’ now. Don’t need it.”

Althea paused in her whacks, livid as could be “There’s a difference between fucking store bought meat, dressed, and the dumb shit you partook in. Of all the irresponsible, stupid….I thought you were smarter than this, Logan!”

The energy in the room dropped as Logan’s brow furrowed and he seemed to shrink in on himself. He looked away and scratched the back of his neck.

‘Oh, Lolo, we aren’t doing this to hurt you’ Wade thought sadly.

Althea held out her hand and said to Wade, her tone brooked no room for argument “give me the fucking spoon.”

Once it was in her hand, she held it out and said to Logan “I know you don’t want this, but it’s for your own good. Now take the fucking pill. You do NOT want to play fuck around and find out with me, NOT TODAY!”

Both Althea and Wade wanted to do nothing more than to give in and smother him with love, but they couldn’t. The issue with Logan was that he struggled with the concept of ‘it’s for your own good’. Years and years of being harmed by other people under the guise of said concept had made it so that Logan had come to equate it with pain and that was something that he desperately needed to unlearn.

Wade took the empty spoon from Logan after the latter downed the pill. The bitter taste hadn’t been completely masked by the peanut butter, leaving his mouth to be overtaken by a dreadfully unpleasant taste and sensation. Bitterness was a flavour he avoided like the plague, sans beer, because as a wolverine subspecies, he not only had a much higher sensitivity to it but also associated the taste with poison.

Wade cringed as a stray tear dripped down Logan’s cheek.

Logan wiped it away as fast as it fell. They had promised to accept his everything, had they finally hit their limit of tolerance just like Charles had? Confusion and insecurity crept in as he tried to desperately understand where he had gone wrong. Just as he was about to bolt, Althea took hold of his hand in both of hers and squeezed. Despite himself he stiffened, as if expecting to be struck.

Althea was stuck between staying strong so the lesson would stick, and giving in because her heart hurt so much. Thankfully Wade cut in and made the decision for her, inserting a little bit of his usual humour to try and lighten the mood.

“Yeaaaaaaaaaah, you might wanna relax while you still can” Wade said ominously, a grimace making its way across his features as he gave Logan a sympathetic pat on the back “you’re gonna have a pretty shitty time in a few hours, pun kinda intended but not really.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Logan asked nervously as his attention shifted from confusion to worry.

Wade took the pill box off the counter and passed it to him. Inside, it contained a blister pack with two doses. Though only one was needed to do the job, vomiting it up within the first ten minutes due to taste and stomach upset was so common that they provided an extra.

Logan flipped it over and read the back, his face going a wonderful shade of ‘oh, I’m fucked’ pale white. Wade gave him another sympathetic pat on the back and after he was done reading, Wade took the box from him and lead him over to the couch.

Two hours later it kicked in hard and it kicked in fast, presenting as painful stomach cramps at first, before a strong feeling of urgency washed over him. It was like being struck with the stomach flu. Logan bolted to the washroom and slammed the door shut behind him with such force he nearly broke it.

“Gonna need a new door” Wade said to Althea.

“He flinched” she whispered in reply “I felt it. Did I go too far? Jesus, Wade. I didn’t mean-“ she stopped talking and shook her head.

Wade hugged her and rubbed her back “what’s done is done and there’s no point dwelling on the past. You told me that, remember? Logan will forgive you, I know he will.”

Wade and Althea, from their place on the couch, could only sit there and listen to his cries of “fucking WHY?!”, “SWEET JESUS” and other colourful phrases and swears as he suffered through his body’s purge. There really wasn’t anything they could do except leave fluids within reach and leave him be.

After a few tortuous hours, there was silence. Wade cautiously poked his head into the washroom and was met with the saddest scene ever of Logan curled up on the floor, sweaty, miserable and furious. It was like in those few hours he had met god, got the shit beaten out of him, and sent back to earth.

Logan muttered a weak “ugh” and “fuck you” that had no energy behind it. He felt disgusting. Judging by the amount of worms present it seems that they’d been there for a long fucking time and he highly doubted it was just the rabbit he ate. He had learned his lesson. Never again would he eat prey without dressing it first.

“Think you can stand?“ Logan shook his head no. Wade scooped him up into his arms bridal style, while Logan rested his head on Wade’s shoulder and grunted.

In an effort to help Logan feel less targeted, Wade said “the pharmacist said that the whole worm issue is super common with carnivores because the prey drive tends to go ballistic or whatever and gives you guys the murder zoomies.”

He paused for a moment, letting the information sink in, then said softly “I know you’re probably not keen on eating anything, but the pharmacist said to try and get something in you that’s what she said so I got you some apple flavoured pedialite and made some rice and chicken. Yes it’s edible, no I didn’t use your special knives and yes I poured the pedialite into your Applejack mug, my miserable man that still somehow manages to look sexy while looking like a sad, wet cat at the same time. Love you <3.” He kissed Logan’s sweaty forehead and grinned.

It was the saddest and most miserable meal he’d eaten in 106 years.

Once everything had been consumed, Ox fetched his bag and the books from the bench. Nothing had been touched or taken because not a single human had dared to touch their stuff after witnessing their little hunting spree.

Logan stood up and began to stretch just as Ox returned. The latter squeezed a dollop of orange scented hand sanitizer into his hands and offered some to Logan. Together they sanitized their hands and took their things while Mary and Oakley buried the innards and heads of the prey they had finished consuming.

Fox subspecies adored the smell of fruit and Ox was no exception. He loved oranges and he loved being clean. Always prepared for his murder zoomies, Ox always kept a small thing of hand sanitizer in his satchel.

Book in hand, Logan gave a slight lift to the brim of his hat and a nod goodbye and left with Mary. That’s just how things sometimes went when it came to being a feral. One moment they’d be calm and talking about literature, and the next they’d running around a dog park like tweakers on crack.

11:20 AM

Logan scooped Mary up and held her under one arm. She was a naughty little goblin girl that loved to sniff butts and wreak havoc wherever she went, though she was much more well behaved than Wade on occasion. In the other hand he held the book and stepped into the Full Moon Cafe.

The Full Moon Cafe was a small, locally owned, coffee shop run by Juno, a feral. Wolf subspecies. It was his family’s favourite coffee shop due to it’s location and customer service. Inside it was relaxing and quaint, with room for six tables.

She was 5’7, around 28, had tan skin and grey hair styled into a pixie cut. She wore a spiked collar, a dark purple short sleeved shirt, tight black jeans with a dark blue apron and combat boots. On the upper right breast area of her apron was her name tag. She smelled of lavender and coffee.

Like all wolf subspecies, Juno had striking gold eyes, sharp canines, grey hair, and was extremely protective of the people she considered to be part of her pack. This extended not only to family but to her employees as well. Which meant that customers were not always right in her establishment.

There were a few human employee’s present but the majority were mutants. Juno tended to gravitate towards those with disabilities or mutations, because as an autistic feral, she knew just how unkind people could be.

Thus it came to no surprise to Logan when he saw Liam bussing the tables not too long after he moved house. He worked part time and went at his own pace. Liam had a different bandana bib for every day of the week, today was Thursday which meant it was an Iron Man day. His bandanas went well with his work uniform which only consisted of a dark blue apron with stars decorating the bottom.

The smell of sour milk was no longer present, replaced with the scents of fabric softener and wet dog. He now had hearing aids, both of which were, unsurprisingly, Spiderman themed.

Liam stopped in his cleaning the moment he caught sight of Logan and Mary and their matching outfits, he lit up like the fourth of July. Liam slowly waved hello and yelled “Matching!”

“Juno………they're matching!”

Not wanting anyone to think he secretly enjoyed showing Mary off, he shifted her in his grip to make her much more visible as he walked over to the front counter. She looked so darling in her cowboy boots and outfit, and not a single person in the cafe could resist her charm because she was the cutest thing in the cafe, no question.

Juno nodded and replied with a smile “they definitely are, Liam.”

It always made Liam so thrilled when Juno and the rest of the staff indulged him like this. The supportive environment and kindness made work quite enjoyable and he looked forward to coming into work everyday.

The absolute best thing about Full Moon Cafe was Juno’s ability to memorize the orders of every single regular, so he didn’t have to try and communicate, she just simply knew. Juno rang up his order and called out to the mutant barista “One large mocha latte with extra chocolate drizzle, one large green tea with honey, one large coffee, two milk, two sugars, and three Tomato mozzarella pan bagnats to go.”

The mutant in question was a Greek woman named Lydia. She had the power to make things no bigger than an inch come to her. Useless in combat but very useful when it came to cleaning. With a wave of her hand, she’d attract all the dust, food particles, and discarded beans and then simply toss them out. Her mutant name was Gather.

Logan placed Mary down, put the book under his arm and held up his hand to signal her to stop, then signed ’two cookies please. Chocolate chip.'

That made her a little surprised, it was very unusual for her regulars to change their orders. She called out “and two chocolate chip cookies.”

As he paid, Logan couldn’t help but think to himself that his grudge against Liam was so incredibly stupid.

Feral’s struggled in society. Their animal nature was constantly clashing with their human one, resulting in an in-between that caused struggle both internal and external. This made it very hard to make and keep friends and the more aggressive type of feral’s often had trouble keeping jobs due to their explosive tempers.

And, as if to add salt to the wound, a lot of subspecies were born with, or developed, disabilities later in life which made an already difficult life even harder. Bird subspecies had delicate bones that were prone to fractures and breaks, leading to them, early on in life, confined to the use of wheelchairs, walkers or canes. Certain dog subspecies were prone to ear infections that lead to deafness. Bat subspecies were low vision, the list was endless.

Why add to the struggle over one mistake? He thought to himself. Yes, his nest and Pup had been violated, yes, he and Spencer had entered his home with intent to harm his mother, but in the end, both men had repented and were doing their best to be and do better, so he would try to do the same.

Logan realized he must’ve spaced out because he found himself a bit startled as Juno leaned over the counter and pulled the books free from under his arm, placed them into a different paper bag, and then slipped that into the bag of food, freeing up a hand, before sliding everything toward him on the counter alongside a handled disposable drink carrier.

Before grabbing his things and leaving, Logan signed ’please give this to Liam’ and slid a crisp $20.00 bill over to her. All dog subspecies thrived when rewarded. Whether said reward was verbal or physical, it didn’t matter, it resulted in the same on cloud 9 good feel each and every time.

Logan then took his things, and gave Liam a quick nod to say his goodbye, and just as the door closed behind him he heard Liam’s soft and slow voice joyously call out “good bye…………..Logan.”

12:00 PM

When Logan had returned home he had been quite surprised to see that the dishes had been done. It seems the promise of a treat had been a spectacular motivator.

If possible, lunch was usually eaten together at the table as it always seemed to prompt interesting and sometimes downright weird discussions that would, on occasion, reveal something new about a family member. Mary had, of course, wolfed down her food and was now laying in her dog bed in a post food related coma, happily snoozing away.

Halfway through his pan bagnat, Wade asked Althea as she wolfed down her food - well, as fast as an 82 year old could “what’re you reading, anyways?”

“Murder she wrote” Althea polished off her bagnat and started on the cookie which she ate with a little more slowness, savouring the sugary treat. Logan couldn’t blame her, the cookies at Full Moon Cafe were pretty huge and had a reputation for being unusually savoury compared to the ones you could buy at the market.

Logan hummed “never really understood how Jessica wasn’t the main suspect after a while, ya know?” He took a bite, then a sip of his coffee.

“Whadda ya mean, Peanut?” Wade took a big bite, a big sip, then swallowed.

Logan leaned forward a little, gesturing with his free hand “she’s always present when there’s a murder investigation, then solves the damn thing n’moves on. Bit of a pattern, don’t ya think?”

“Now that you mention it…” Althea and Wade muttered in tandem, mulling over the situation. Logan polished off the rest of his food and coffee as they did this, incredibly curious to see where this would go.

Wade wasn’t the only one who was interested in the weird talks and the what if’s. Althea and Logan often got roped into these discussions and treated them with the same level of seriousness Wade did. This made for fantastic discussions because no one knew where it would go or what conclusion would be reached.

After a few minutes of thinking, Althea was the first to speak up “would’ve been better if she was a serial killer.”

Wade cut in, finishing her sentence with a slap to the table “that’s what I was thinking! She could go from place to place, killing and then solving the crimes to make herself look like the hero!”

“Get the inspector on her dime” Logan knocked the rest of his coffee back and placed the empty cup back on the table next to his empty plate.

“Secretly rich, and pays off the local sheriffs and inspectors wherever she goes” Althea added.

Wade finished off his food and stood up, slapping the table a few times “fucking yes! And her main motivation is her writing! Fucking, gets all this material, pulls the ol’ ‘oh, it’s just a coincidence’ bullshit, flaunts her crimes and get’s away with it cus’ her readers are too stupid to realize that they’re basically reading a confession, and the ones that have figured it out either are too scared to speak up or have been paid off!”

Logan and Althea nodded. Then, unexpectedly, it was Logan who then put forth a theory that would turn this discussion from a what if, into a conspiracy theory “what if she’s always been a killer n’we jus’ haven’t put the pieces together cus’ we think s’too obvious or outlandish?”

A silence fell over the table, and then, as if gripped by the spirit of an Area 51 truther, Wade paced around the room and gestured with his hands. “Wait, wait, FUCKING WAIT! I think you’re onto something, Peanut.”

It didn’t take long for them all to come to the same conclusion: re-watch the series, and re read the books, with this theory in mind.

1:30 PM

This intense discussion continued for a little over an hour, after which, they had all packed it in because they either needed to use the washroom (Althea), lost interest (Wade) or needed to finish up the dish washing (Logan).

“Flair up?” Wade joined Logan at the sink, after he had helped Logan clear the dining room table.

As the sink was filled up with hot soapy water, Logan nodded, rubbing the painful joints in his hands “s’fine. The hot water’ll help.”

Wade didn’t seem so sure. Logan slipped the rubber gloves over his hands, the compression gloves still on them and turned off the tap once the sink was nice and bubbly. Each dish was washed thoroughly, but each scrub was accompanied by a wince.

It always made Wade unhappy seeing his beau in pain. He spotted the cast iron off to the side on the counter, alongside one of his fancy knives. An idea struck “can you show me how to properly wash the cast iron and your knives?”

That gave Logan pause. Soapy dish in hand, he turned his head to look at Wade “why?”

“Is it really so unthinkable that I, Wade - the sexiest man alive - Wilson, would wanna be helpful and learn something new just because?”

“Suppose not…” Logan turned his attention back to the sink and quickly finished up what little there was to do.

He drained the sink and allowed Wade to take hold of his precious cast iron and rest it in the sink. He set the water to warm and placed a small drop of gentle soap onto a sponge.

Before Logan could even get a word out, Wade stuck him with a look that he really couldn’t identify and said “Yeah, before we begin I got a huge fucking question that’s been on my mind for fucking AGES. So…..why the fuck do you need these fancy things-“ Wade picked up the knife, making sure to grip it properly so it wouldn’t drop “when you’ve got literal claws, my guy?”

Logan thought for a moment then shrugged "Charles said it was unsanitary...n'most seem to agree. When I used to prepare food with em, many just refused to eat n’thought it was gross so….”

The tiny little negative interactions that Logan had, had with the X men from his world, revolving around his mutation, had chipped away at him overtime causing him to override his feral instincts and nature to appease the people around him.

“Well…I don’t think it’s gross” Wade said seriously “now…how the fuck do I clean this thing?”

Though his time spent teaching in his old world had been short lived, he did learn a few key things, one of which was the difference between weaponized incompetence and simply not knowing. Assuming the former and acting accordingly was the fastest way to discourage someone and guarantee they’d never try again.

Besides, Logan knew Wade like the back of his hand. Wade had a tendency to slack a little when he was made to do something ‘boring’ and he often had issues with starting tasks due to task paralysis but he was also hard working, very intelligent and very caring of the people he considered friends and family. Weaponized incompetence was not something he’d ever engage in when it came to the people he loved.

The people he hated, however…..

Logan took Wade’s hand in his and guided the sponge in slow circles on the cast iron pans surface. s'like cleanin' a gun or your swords, you don’t gotta scrub it raw, jus' clean it nice n’gentle."

“Ooooooh” realization dawned as it finally clicked “so when I scrubbed all the seasoning off, it was like stripping the oil off a gun. Wow…no wonder you were so pissed. I’m sorry.”

After their lunch and spirited discussion, Althea had gone back to her recliner and resumed her reading. As she listened in, she couldn’t help but smile, she was so unbelievably proud of her boys for solving an issue between themselves without violence or hurt feelings.

Once the pan and knife was cleaned and everything was dried and put away, Wade helped Logan remove the rubber gloves and helped him with his mystery smoothies. Healing factors required a lot of calories per day in order to keep functioning. For Logan, this ment he needed to consume 4000 calories minimum. To help hit his goal, he consumed two mystery smoothies per day made with healthy, high calorie ingredients.

In the bullet Wade mixed together heavy cream, frozen cubes of raw meat, honey, cinnamon, a few mixed berries and a generous heaping of hemp hearts. Once done he asked Logan “no spill cup or do you want your mug?”

Sometimes, when his joint pain got particularly bad - like during his heavy days - it left him unable to grip things properly. Logan gave him a gentle smile in return, grateful for his thoughtfulness “mug’s fine. Jus’ a little sore.”

Wade poured the first smoothie into Logan’s Applejack mug, then made a second smoothie and poured that into his no spill cup and placed it into the fridge for consumption later that night.

Applejack mug in hand, Logan and Wade made their way over to the living room.

2:00-4:00 PM

2:00 to 4:00 was quiet time.

Logan was a vivacious reader. He was curled on the couch, balancing Ox’s copy of Walden on his lap while he held the mug in the other hand, sipping as he read. The book was as fascinating and relatable as the day he had read it decades ago.

But his new found family and experiences had changed the way he viewed some key aspects within said book. So, he’d alternate between nodding his head in agreement and pausing to contemplate.

While he and Althea were absorbed in their books, and Mary slept like the dead, Wade chose to spend his time on the phone, alternating between doom scrolling and memes.

4:00 PM

“What would you like for dinner, Althea?” Logan asked as he bookmarked his place. He was about halfway through.

She did the same and seriously gave it some thought before deciding on “what was the name of that dish you made last week? The one with the ribs that tasted hot and sweet?”

“Char Sui?” The moment he said that, she snapped her fingers and said “yeah! that. That shit was delectable.” Wade nodded enthusiastically with her choice. He loved that shit, too.

Logan got up with a grunt. They had gone food shopping days earlier, so he had everything on hand. The best thing about living close to the Gorani Market was that if he was missing an ingredient he could just run over and get it.

He got out all the ingredients: Brown sugar, molasses, honey, five spice powder, sherry, orange juice, cayenne pepper and short ribs and got to work. Now, he wasn’t too chuffed that the meat wouldn’t have any time to marinate. But he’d make do. For the side dish, he decided on a small salad.

6:00 PM

Wade was the first to speak up as they chowed down, saying the quiet part out loud. “doesn’t taste the same, Peanut.”

“Sure don’t. Usually let it marinate for 12 hrs before cooking. Didn’t have the time so I did what I could.” Logan didn’t even seem upset, just mildly put off. He didn’t seem pleased with his cooking either, but knew that if there wasn’t time to properly do something, then the end result would be mid. That’s just how it tended to go.

“I would’ve been fine with choosing something else” Althea placed her fork down “you could’ve said something.”

Logan had made leaps and bounds when it came to saying no or being assertive with his found family, but when it came to Althea, he still had a little ways to go.

Then, addressing Wade, she said with the tone a mother would use in warning before getting the slipper “be nice.”

Both men sheepishly muttered “sorry, ma.”

A few minutes was spent in silence then Wade said in-between bites “still tastes pretty bussin’ though.”

“What does that mean?” Modern slang and technology were what Logan struggled with most. The issue with being isolated for as long as he had been, meant that technology had improved leaps and bounds in such a short amount of time and he had missed most of it. Slang was much the same.

“It means extremely good” Wade replied.

“…..then why not jus' say that?”

“What a boomer thing to say, Peanut.” Althea sure had excellent aim for a blind woman, thought Wade as he found himself almost knocked out of his chair by a well thrown croc.

7:00 PM - 9:00 PM

TV time was split equally between the three of them. As to keep things fair, they began with Althea’s choice - which was usually a game show or a soap opera - and then handed off to Wade. Logan was content with watching what they preferred as he didn’t have much opinion when it came to programs.

Today, Althea’s choice was Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. All three of them participated and did pretty well. Closed Captioning wasn’t really needed as 99.9% of the show was just reading off questions and hearing the contestant answer. Logan did take the time to describe the contestant for her, though.

At 8:00 PM it was Wade’s turn.

Wade set up Disney+ and paused when Logan rose from the couch.

"Just do it later, Lo. The dishes aren't going anywhere.” Wade’s profile avatar was Stitch and his watch list was quite extensive. Since he had a tendency to get easily distracted, most of the shows on said watch list were partially watched and then abandoned.

Logan turned to address him, giving him a ‘look’. There was one of three ‘looks’ that Logan would give him depending on the occasion or offence committed. The one he was giving him right now was the stare of mild disapproval which was way worse than full on disapproval because there was room for more disappointment.

"Yeah, yeah, I know 'it's better to do things now instead of putting them off.’ Look, the world isn’t gonna end if you don’t do them right fucking now.” Wade was the type of man that once he had it in his head that something needed to be done, it would get done at the expense of everything else.

Logan chuckled and rolled his eyes “same can be said bout’ your show, Red. You can wait.”

“Rude.”

“He's right you know” Althea piqued up.

Feeling impatient, Wade set up the episode and sat back on the couch with an exhale. He could hear the sloshing of soapy water and the squeak squeak of dishes being washed and placed into the drying rack.

Since Logan had a tendency to clean as he cooked, there wasn’t much left to wash-up. In no time at all he finished up and walked back into the living room, no spill cup in hand filled with his second high calorie mystery smoothie of the day. Althea sat on the far right, Wade right next to her and Logan laid his head down in Wade’s lap with his legs pulled to his chest.

“Mr.Inbetween season 2 episode 3 - I came from your balls?” Wade read out loud to Althea, devolving into a fit of giggles.

Throughout the hour-long episode, Althea took her heart medication and chased it with a cup of water, Logan took sips of his smoothie and leaned into Wade’s touch as the latter ran his hands through his coarse hair while also providing closed captioning for Althea. This little nightly ritual between the three of them was so wonderfully domestic and was something all three of them looked forward to each night.

9:00 PM

“Well, that was awkward” Wade blurted out as the credits rolled.

The entire episode was indeed an awkward mess from start to finish, but in a very realistic and relatable kinda way. So, although they did do their fair share of cringing throughout, they ultimately enjoyed it, just like they’d enjoy the next episode, too.

Althea went to rise from the couch but sat back down quite suddenly, shaky legs and dizziness hitting her all at once - unfortunate side effects of her medication “Logan, gonna need some help.”

Without missing a beat, he quickly got up and placed one hand on her back and with the other, took her hand to steady her with practised ease. Once he got her in a standing position, he asked “washroom?”

That one word was his way of discreetly asking her two things: 1. Do you need help getting to the washroom, and 2. Do you need help washing up/getting ready for bed?

“Both” she quietly replied “I’m proud, not stupid. Don’t wanna risk it.” Ever so slowly and carefully they walked side by side to her washroom.

Size wise it was bigger than theirs, the floor heated and the toilet had a support bar next to it just in case. The shower had a little door on the side that when opened allowed Althea to simply walk in, close it and sit down in the shower seat provided. This was not only safer, but allowed Althea to have her independence without fear of hurting herself.

There were no bath rugs, just two anti-slip mats, one in the bath and one outside of it, and anyone who helped her was very careful not to move anything within without her express permission. This was Althea’s space and both Wade and Logan were very careful to respect that.

When it came to matters such as this, Althea tended to gravitate towards Logan for several reasons. He was the one who accompanied her to her doctor's visits and kept a meticulously organized folder of her medications and doctors notes. He was also the oldest in the house which made things less awkward and the one who treated things with the most respect.

But most importantly, it was through him that he learned to check her pride at the door and listen to her own goddamn advice. So, as he helped her undress and into the shower, she didn’t feel shame or disappointment with herself, she simply just accepted the help.

“I’ll be ok with the rest, I’ll call you back in if I need help” she heard him leave and damn well knew that even though he had that super hearing of his, he’d still wait outside by the door like a dutiful son. He always did.

Once she was all clean and everything was turned off she called him back in. He helped her dry and change, with flossing, brushing and moisturizing, saying out loud what items he was handing her or saying what he was going to do before he did it. He didn’t need to, but Althea was so thankful that he did.

All that was left was Althea’s last choice for the night. “Feelin’ ok or do you wanna turn in?”

She thought for a moment then patted his hand. They slowly walked toward the living room, one shuffle at a time. “Recliner."

He helped her into her favourite seat and covered her with the cashmere blanket. Mary jumped onto her lap with an excited yip as she saw all that free real estate, the perfect place for snuggles.

10:00 PM

“Just because I look like a fleshy fucked up raisin doesn’t mean I can’t be spooktacular, Peanut. Now fucking move, daddy’s gotta get ready for bed.”

Wade always went first as his nightly routine took the longest. Belting out a very bad rendition of ‘Popular’, after he had finished with his teeth, Wade began his skin care routine which only really involved a face wash and moisturizing his entire body.

As for Logan, his routine took ten minutes tops. He didn’t need to do his teeth as his healing factor prevented cavities but Wade forced him to brush anyways, just like he was very insistent that Logan wash his face before bed, too.

Wade stared at him as if he had uttered a slur then made a few gagging noises, much to Logan’s chagrin “you don’t fucking brush and wash up every night? My guy, that’s fucking gross!”

Logan was tempted to childishly point out that Wade smelled like a rotting corpse and was basically stuck in a permanent state of semi decomposition, but he held his tongue and let Wade say what he needed to say.

“Seriously, that’s gross. Is this a new thing or were you never shown?”

Logan simply said, deadpan “I lived in a wolf pack for four years, Wade, n’in a cave for two decades…..healin’ factor makes it so I don’t gotta do any of that shit.” He hooked a finger into the corner of his lower lip to expose a single sharp, pearly white, canine “see? Sides, I shower.”

Wade breathed in, his hands in the prayer position as he tried to figure out how to best get Logan to understand. Eventually he decided that being blunt was better than trying to be kind “I love you, Lolo, which is why I am telling you this: even if you don’t have to brush and floss, even if you don’t understand why it’s important to wash up before bed, I want you to do it anyways because not doing it is super fucking gross.”

Logan tilted his head to the side like a confused dog. He didn’t get it but it was what Wade wanted, so he said “ok.”

10:30 PM

Mary was curled up on the foot of the bed on Wade’s side. She was in her little unicorn jammies.

“I’m feeling kinda Kuromi but Pinkey pie is good too” Wade held up the PJ’s for Logan to inspect “what should I wear to bed, Peanut?”

Logan didn’t really care, but he thought it was pretty cute that Wade cared so much, not that he’d ever admit that out loud of course “the purple rabbit thing.”

“Ku-ro-mi” Wade said very slowly “we’ve been over this, Lo” then he pointed to his various Sanrio PJ’s, saying the name of the character as he did so “My Melody - or My Mel if you’re feeling spicy, Cinnaroll, and Hello Kitty.“

Logan was not the type of man to fuss over his sleeping clothes. Wade would often remark that his sleep wear was very boring, but he disagreed as he truly thought that wolves were the height of cool.

Wolves, plain shirts, plain tanks, plain sleep pants and shorts. Though he preferred to sleep shirtless, and in the nude whenever he could, the idea of sleeping in such an undressed state next to Althea felt so improper that the very idea made him uncomfortable.

“Kuromi” Logan repeated back to him. He opened the middle dresser drawer and pulled out another wolf shirt and grey sleep pants.

“Very adventurous, Peanut. Wolves again. Say, why not try something new?” Wade walked over to inspect Logan’s Pajama drawer and muttered “grey, black, blue, wolves, wolves, wolves, black, dark green, blue, very masculine. Starting to see a pattern….say, if I got you some Sanrio PJ’s would you wear em?”

He watched Logan change, almost drooling at the sight of his toned back, flat tummy, muscled arms, beautiful pecs and perfect ass. Christ, he was an Adonis!

Logan nodded, then slipped the shirt over his head. A single wolf was howling at the moon, as it stood alone in a winter landscape. Wade grinned, he knew exactly what Sanrio PJ's his Badtz-Maru man would look best in.

Althea was already in bed. She put her bonnet on, then her silk sleep mask that she really didn’t need but liked it for the slight pressure it provided, laid down and waited for her boys to finish up and go the fuck to sleep.

“Good night” said Althea, as she felt the bed dip and heard the rustle of sheets indicating they had finally finished changing. Logan picked up his splints and handed them to Wade “good night, Althea.”

“Good night, don’t let the bed bugs bite - wait…” Wade narrowed his eyes as if he was on the cusp of figuring out something groundbreaking. He placed the splints down “why do people say that anyways? How’s anyone supposed to get a good night’s sleep with the thought of having bed bugs all up in their bed, unless -“ he pointed at the ceiling accusingly “unless it’s a conspiracy to make sure no one has a good night! total pentagon area 51 shit. Oh my god, you know what? This reminds me of the McDonald's in the pentagon song.”

“Wade” “oh my god” Althea and Logan groaned in unison.

“Also, since the pentagon has a McDonald's, do you think they get all the special menu items from the other country’s McDonald's or are they just limited to the ones from America?” he gasped “holy shit! what if they have their own super special menu items, Althea? Can you imagine? That’d be so fucking unfair; a total outra-“

“Shut up, Wade” Logan growled, silencing him with a brief kiss.

They stared into each others eyes for one long magical moment until an awkward cough from Althea snapped them out of it. Logan said softly “We’ll talk about your pentagon bullshit tomorrow, ok?”

Wade whispered, picking up a splint and sliding it onto Logan’s left hand, securing it into a bent downward position and then starting on the right “probably got pentagon shaped patty’s. I just know it. It’d be so on brand.”

His arms now in a t-rex pose, Logan kissed him again and said “tomorrow. Now sleep.”

“Yessir” Wade giggled.

Wrists now splinted, Wade helped him lay down on his tummy and tucked him in, taking great care to put Pup in the crook of his arm so Logan could hold em' through the night. Wade and made it clear to Logan that if he was going to help him put the splints on each night, then he was going to help tuck him in too. The sight of Logan splinted and unconscious on that metal table like some kind of specimen had caused great upset within Wade and thus he decided that he was gonna give Logan the care he deserved each and every goddamn night no matter what.

As Wade laid down and pulled the covers up to his chin, he heard Logan whisper “night, darlin.’"

For as long as Logan could remember, he has always been alone. Now he has a mother, a mate, a daughter and a home.