Chapter Text
With a little bit of movie magic and some hand-wavy time skips, the bodega turned from a crime scene to an acceptable shop in the time it took for the cops to actually show up. Detective Mahoney and another officer Logan didn’t recognise came through the door to the bodega just as Frank was leaving through the back. Logan wanted to say something, maybe mention Frank’s dog to the two officers, but it was pretty clear that Frank didn’t want to speak to them; he wanted to find his dog.
“Can you give me a description of your attacker?” Mahoney asked.
Logan did so. Daredevil had already left, claiming he was too injured to sweep up his mess, but the hole in the ceiling was still there and Pietro was sweeping around it to try and get it all in one place. As Logan and Mahoney spoke, the other officer took notes.
“She sounds like a real character,” Mahoney commented.
Taking a second, Logan let himself be a little more invasive than he usually was. Mahoney smelled like he had been on a long shift, his aftershave little more than a faint whisper and the scent of fried food, possibly chicken, was fresher than anything else. He had dirt beneath his short cropped fingernails and a little bit of sleep crust in the corner of his eye. When he looked back at Logan, he could see the faint shadow of a black eye making the skin darker, but Logan didn’t comment. The bodega was right on the edge of Hell’s Kitchen, and Mahoney was in the thick of it. TV show, Logan thought, or assumed. He had that kind of look, and if he was with Daredevil then there was a good chance he got the short end of the metaphorical stick by being in more danger than his PG counterparts.
The officer with him, however, had the kind of loosey-goosey sketching which was distinctly non-physical, crafted without pen or pencil strokes. He eyed her tight braids and imprecise features, and how she smelled like warm paper which had come from a printer.
“What’s your name, officer?” Logan asked her, surprising himself as much as everyone else.
“Detective,” she corrected. “Detective Maynard.”
He nodded. As he thought. She was like Pietro.
“Well, detectives, what now?” he asked.
“Well, would you like us to inform your employer about the confrontation or are you comfortable doing that yourself?” Maynard asked.
Pietro looked up from the rubble he was sweeping and shook his head. Logan looked at him over both of the detectives’ shoulders and replied, “I’ll leave it up to you, if that’s alright.”
Mahoney nodded. “In the meantime, we’ll keep an eye out for this ‘Black Cat’ you mentioned and you do the same. What’s really lacking here is a motive.”
Logan waited to see if they would continue, but when neither of them did, he shrugged. “Beats me.”
Mahoney shrugged and Maynard put her notepad away.
“We’ll update you if we find anything,” Maynard said.
“In the mean time, call us if you see her again. There’s a chance that this isn’t a one time incident.” Mahoney nodded at Logan and then Pietro. “Have a good morning.”
*
Logan was just about ready to pull out all of his hair and eat it if it meant his shift would be over. That was when the clock struck nine and the one, the only, the Thing walked in and took up all the space in the little sandwich counter area. He was wearing the creeps-101 classic outfit: fedora, big coat, and swimming trunks. Not a single morning commuter paid him any mind, but Logan zeroed in on him with such precision that he felt himself get a headache instantly.
“Uhm,” Mr the Thing said.
“What?” Logan asked. He sounded calmer than he felt. His shift ended twenty-eight seconds ago.
“Do you mind if we, ah, talk?” the Thing asked.
Logan looked at the Thing, who stood among the early morning folk like a whale among mackerels, and then sighed. The clock ticked to one minute past nine and Logan's coworker stepped in to take his space immediately. Sometimes he felt like a neon sign in a dark room was pointing at him, showing off to everyone that he was a mutant, but compared to the Thing, he was as innocuous as he could be.
"What's your name?" Logan asked when they reached a quieter corner of the city.
The Thing took off his stupid fedora. "Ben. Ben Grimm."
Logan nodded. "And I'm Logan, but I guess you knew that. What's wrong?"
"I don't know if you've been told, but the Silver Surfer is back." When Logan stayed quiet, Ben continued in hushed tones. "He's bad news. I know he's not so interested in terrorism or taking over like he used to, but he seems particularly interested in causing trouble at the moment. He's got a fixation on Princess."
Logan interrupted. "Princess?"
"My dog." The Thing didn't seem to realise how strange it was to hear that a dude made from rocks had a dog with such a delicate name. "Well, our dog. The Fantastic Four's dog. The Silver Surfer must see her as a weak point since whenever I walk her he just swoops in and starts trying to start something."
Logan had no idea what the Silver Surfer 'starting something' would look like. From his own limited experience, extraterrestrials were more polite than any group Logan had ever met, although they were also more likely to consider explosions necessary for casual conversations. Maybe the Silver Surfer had swept down and insulted Ben's dress sense in a way which was so polite that it took him a few minutes to realise it was supposed to be an insult. And then blew up someone’s car.
"What do you mean by 'start something?" Logan asked.
"He keeps trying to abduct Princess."
Logan blinked. "Stealing your dog?"
Ben nodded.
"Why?"
Ben raised both massive stoney shoulders in a shrug and then looked off to one side. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me."
Logan tried to organise his thoughts. The New Order (which was a stupid name for a bad guy group, if he was being honest), consisting of four known or unknown anti-heroes and bad guys, had previously been looking for a spot to settle down and were now trying to abduct people's dogs. Starting with Frank, then Ben, and then... Who? Surely they weren't stupid enough to go after Mary Puppins. And what would stealing people's dogs do, other than piss them off?
"I don't know," Logan admitted. When Ben's shoulders fell again, Logan hurried to continue. "But I'll see what I can do. I've got a dog, too, and I don't want them going after her when they could be... Blowing up buildings or something."
Ben nodded slowly, his face turning serious. "Be careful around the Surfer. He was a real pain in the neck when he first came to Earth, blowing things up and creating sinkholes. He drained the Thames. He revived Doctor Doom. I dunno what he wants now, but he's a nasty piece of work."
"And you keep an eye out for Black Cat. She's got some kind of reality warp to manipulate good and bad luck in her favour. Seems like the kind of woman to care less about property damage."
"Thanks," Ben said. "For looking into this. Or, well, keeping an eye out."
*
It was a beautiful, cold day, and Logan messaged Wade to say he was going to be late home. He received a response when he was just leaving the subway in the East Village.
'You better not be exploring the Punisher’s body again,' his message read.
Logan shoulder checked a stranger by accident and they swiped his whole body, grabbed his second fake wallet which contained eight cents and a polaroid dick pick Wade gave him on valentine's day, and then spirited away. Logan grunted and looked back at them, but all he saw was a mud-green hoodie and a pair of black jeans hurrying onto the next train. Rolling his shoulders, Logan escaped the tight, skin-laden air of the subway and raised his head above street level.
Every single person wearing a suit was talking into their phone or on a stupid-looking Bluetooth earpiece. Every tourist leaned back at a thirty-degree angle to take pictures of all the buildings they could see. Every pigeon pecked at each speck on the pavement in case it was food. Every Spider-Man went swinging overhead one after the other like it was a high traffic area, including one dressed in white that Logan hadn't met yet, and the Silver Surfer did a sick kickflip off of a tenement building in the distance. It seemed like a normal Tuesday.
Wade sent another text: ‘OR LETTING HIM EXPLORE YOURS!’
Logan took a slow walk down a quiet part of the street, ignoring the few dog walkers and women with ponytails talking quickly on their phones. A jogger went past in a boiler suit like it was still the eighties, and Logan reached a coffee shop in the basement of a building called 'Java Jive'. The building itself was almost completely covered in cladding, and there was someone playing around with metal pipes at the bottom of the building, possibly putting up more scaffolding. He ignored them all and went inside the coffee shop.
As he suspected, the world narrowed down into the bare essentials of the place. Coffee was the most obvious smell, with the faint whiffs of people and milk being second. The air was still and warm in contrast to the breeze outside. A young woman he recognised as Hawkeye waved at him, but otherwise didn’t move away from her laptop. She wasn’t who he was here to see.
Logan approached the counter and said, "Black coffee. You got a bathroom here?"
The guy behind the counter accepted Logan's five dollars and pointed to the door to the back. Logan nodded at him and continued through. The next room was a brightly lit hallway with a door to a bathroom and some stairs leading upwards. He took them two at a time, careful to keep his boots from making too much noise, and entered the main lobby of the building. The door closed quietly behind him and Logan listened to someone tapping away on their phone, and when he peaked around the corner, he could see someone manning the front desk to the lobby. Further inside, away from the security guard, Logan took the stairs to the next floor.
The smells of people were stronger. While it was clear that most people who lived there were doing so in luxury, two very obvious smells kept him going: grapefruit shampoo and wet dog. The further up he went, the more obvious the smells became, as well as the one which reminded Logan of polished wood. Finally, when he reached the second-highest floor, Logan stopped and knocked. No one answered, and no footfalls came closer to the door. Instead, Logan heard the noise of a window being opened. Then, a dog began to bark.
Logan went inside just in time to see Hawkeye the elder jump out of a window. An arrow sunk into his shoulder and Logan grunted, following Hawkeye to the window as his dog waved its fan-like tail from side to side like a broken rudder on a boat. The door to the apartment clicked closed behind him and Logan yanked the arrow out of his shoulder, dumped it on the floor, and followed Hawkeye outside. The fire escape was boobytrapped, with trip wires attached to fishing hooks and tin cans full of nails ready to fall, but Logan just took his time and followed Hawkeye up to the roof.... And Hawkeye was already at the next building.
"Come on, man," Logan muttered.
Logan waved his arms up to get Hawkeye's attention, and thankfully for him, he didn't receive another arrow for his trouble. The people below them were looking upwards, ignoring the construction work they had all been watching and instead enjoying the man on man violence occurring above their head. Logan could practically feel the phone cameras trained on him as he tried to get Hawkeye's attention.
Hawkeye peered back at him and raised his bow again. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week.
Logan raised his hands in a sign of surrender. "I just want to talk," he called.
There was no look of recognition, or even a twitch, when Logan spoke. Logan thought for a moment, tried to remember the various Avengers comics which Nightcrawler demolished with the efficiency of a labrador left unattended at a buffet, and then reached up with unpracticed fingers to sign, 'Talk?'
Clint moved slightly. Logan could imagine him squinting. He signed back, 'What about?'
'Dog. Shop.' Logan gestured vaguely, running out of the few signs he knew and resorted to finger-spelling. 'B-O-D-E-G-A. I-N-F-O.'
Hawkeye vaulted himself back towards Logan, not seeming to notice the way that his dog was barking up a storm back in his apartment, and up close he leaned back slightly and regarded Logan. The construction continued below, jackhammers destroying concrete and pipes clattering to the floor outside the building Hawkeye lived in.
"Oh, it's you." Hawkeye walked straight past him and then vaulted back onto the fire escape of his apartment building. "Katie-Kate mentioned you after you helped with the Rebane case. Nice work."
Logan carefully waited until Hawkeye was looking at him before asking. "I wanted to ask you some questions, if that's alright."
Hawkeye squinted at him and then clambered through the window to his sparse apartment, and he waited until Logan had come back inside before he made a show of putting in some hearing aids.
Logan repeated what he had said and Hawkeye asked, "What kind of questions?"
As Hawkeye put on a pot of coffee (the coffee maker being one of the few things he owned), Logan spoke.
"I wanted to know if you've encountered those new people on the block. Big Wheel, Black Cat—“
Hawkeye interrupted him. "Lizard-Man, and the Silver Surfer. Yeah. Real assholes, if you ask me. Why?"
The golden retriever came over to Logan and accepted a light scratching, but it was clearly more interested in walking over to Hawkeye and sniffing at the counter. Its nose hovered next to the surface, sniffing at the bread crumbs and spilled coffee grounds, then it sneezed and wandered off. Compared to the last time Logan saw it, the dog was glossy and a perfect golden colour, and didn't smell at all like trash.
"I think Black Cat stole the Punisher's dog,” Logan said.
Hawkeye put down his coffee cup and stared at Logan. Logan stared back, ignoring how the dog sniffed at his hand.
"And the Thing spoke to me just now about how the Silver Surfer kept trying to take his dog."
"The Thing has a dog?" Hawkeye asked. Logan nodded. "What kind?"
Logan tried to imagine what kind of dog a dude made from rocks would have, but he could only imagine an equally rocky dog. He just shrugged. "She's called Princess."
Sagely, Hawkeye nodded. "Bichon frise."
Logan didn't exactly know what one of those was, but it sounded fancy. And French.
Hawkeye stretched his hands above his head, his back clicking in a way Logan could absolutely sympathise with, and then the coffee was done. "Well, I'll keep an eye out. Did you see the doorman on the way in?"
"No."
"Good. I'm squatting here until Nat lets me back in Stark Tower."
"And the dog?"
"He's called Lucky."
"Is Lucky squatting, too?"
Hawkeye glared at Lucky, who was laying on a fancy white couch across the room and staring at them with his big dopey face. "No. Nat lets him back into the tower but not me."
Logan went to reply and then paused. It was quiet, near silent. The construction noises from outside had stopped.
Windows crashed. Lucky yelped when a moron dressed in green with an ugly pipe contraption grabbed him and vaulted back out the window. Hawkeye dropped his coffee and yanked his bow back, quick as a cork from a bottle, and Logan was already out the window and onto the fire escape when he saw the guy's contraption fold outwards into a wheel. The man inside laughed.
Logan jumped and slammed into the top of the guy's wheel, but wherever he touched on the wheel was sharp like a knife, shredding his shoes as soon as he hit the metal. He dug his claws into the frame and tore it, revealing the dude in his green leotard just long enough for Hawkeye to take a shot and send an arrow ricocheting inside the device. Lucky's barking grew louder, and with a hideous creak of metal, the wheel began to move. Logan jumped off it before he could be mangled beneath it, but as soon as he jumped off, Hawkeye jumped onto the wheel as well. He yelped when the metal gouged into his shoes and fell to the ground. The wheel was too quick, skating down the road like a demented Beyblade, and then folded down into a subway and out of sight.
People stopped screaming. Cars drove around the gouges in the road, and Logan dragged Hawkeye and his busted feet to the sidewalk. People stepped over or around them. The street had returned to its normal setting.
"Alright," Hawkeye hissed and pulled off his shoes, showing off the clean cuts on his soles. "They're stealing dogs. Why are they stealing dogs?"
“No idea. You got a friend you want me to call or can I ditch you here?" Logan asked. “I got a kidnapper to pursue.”
Hawkeye hissed and handed over his phone. "Call Nat."
*
The meteorologist ended her segment on the epic sandstorm started by Doctor Strange and his enemy of the week down in Arizona, and then the regular news anchors came back and shuffled their papers. They both wore plastic smiles, with teeth so white that they'd glow purple under ultraviolet light, but their news was anything but cheery. Still, the hosts smiled on as they spoke.
"Senator Gregory Timpson has been continuing his bid to impose restrictions on the population of enhanced individuals in the state of New York, stating, 'If those people think it's their God-given right to run around on the roofs in their pyjamas, then it is our God-given right to put restrictions on them.' Senator Gregory Timpson has also gone on record to say that he thinks these restrictions should be placed on all enhanced people, and not just vigilantes."
The insipid hosts turned to one another to discuss, but Logan was too busy holding Mary up so that he could try and clip her nails, but like Wade, she regrew them so quickly that it was like trying to tackle a garden filled with mint. He tried to make a kissy noise at her so that she'd look at him, and she did, but she wiggled so that she could reach closer with her tongue and give him a real kiss, effectively making his attempts to still her useless. He was just about to resort to using peanut butter when Wade slammed through the door.
"I don't get it," Wade said. "I don't understand. Those losers live in Hoboken but they keep coming to Manhattan to just fuck with us and then go home. And you—“ Wade pointed at Logan. "—are too busy playing housewife with other men to help me."
"I'm retired," Logan said for the millionth time.
"Not from being a housewife." Wade gestured to him to make a point, and Logan glared a little as Mary tried to lick his chin. "What did the Punisher want?"
"He's on the case with that senator."
Logan turned up the volume on the TV just as it swapped cameras to someone who looked like a real person. He was standing in the street in front of some government building, hair all in his face and teeth as he smiled for the camera, but it was clear he was just trying to survive against the onslaught of pedestrians walking all around him. He raised his bright blue microphone to his mouth.
"Thanks, Sandy. Things are heating up in the discussion surrounding Senator Gregory Timpson and his recent one-eighty when it comes to his opinions on the powered community. I'm sure you remember the list of enhanced persons who are willing to step up and help out in case the chitauri or some other invasion happens again, but we took to the streets this morning to ask around about what people think of the sudden change in opinion that Timpson has had in regards to mutant and enhanced person's rights."
The camera swapped to show a lady dressed all in white.
"Wear red," Wade scoffed.
"It's, like..." she twirled a string of blonde hair around one finger. "Totally bogus. Like, who does that? He wanted to be like us, one of us, and now he's all, like, 'get the mutants out!' and, 'I hate aliens', but he totally doesn't get that if She-Hulk and Captain Marvel, and even Squirrel Girl weren't here when that purple guy came to earth then we wouldn't be here!"
The camera cut to someone who was wearing a green costume. He hung from the underside of an air conditioning unit and a pop-up at the bottom of the screen said 'Lizard-Man'.
"Yeah, no." He waved one hand. "No idea. I mean, the law changes won't affect me too much since I'm a wanted criminal and all, but it sucks for everyone else. Like, come on, mister. I'm one criminal. You're going to change the laws because there's one guy breaking the laws? That's like punishing the whole class for one person making a stick-people-to-surfaces liquid in chemistry class. Not everyone should suffer."
And the camera then cut to a familiar looking kid in a blue costume. There was a '4' on the costume’s breast and the pop-up read, 'Johnny Storm'.
Wade sat down and stared, enraptured, as the new and improved Johnny Storm gave a little speech about how enhanced people and mutants had been around forever and they didn't deserve to be punished just for existing. Logan turned the TV volume down again when it cut back to the two plastic-looking hosts.
"Frank's working on it," Logan explained. "He came to me for information last night."
Wade scoffed. "Yeah, 'information'."
"Alright." Logan twisted to face him. "What's with you?"
Wade, though his full Deadpool ensemble, stared at him for a moment and then broke the silence. "Excuse me? What's with me?"
Logan grunted in confirmation.
"You—“ Wade froze and then stood up. "You know what? Nevermind. If you can't see past your huge hairy chest and your massive forehead then that's not my problem. Which of us pays for this flat, honey badger?"
Logan took a second to answer. "You cover the rent and I pay the bills. And for Netflix."
Wade breathed out. "And who pays for Mary?"
Mary, at the mention of her name, squirmed out of Logan's lap and thudded to the floor. Unlike some dogs, she tended not to bark and instead made uncomfortable noises with her mouth which might have been mistaken for coming out the other end. She made such a sound at Wade when he picked her up and licked at his gloved fingers.
"You pay for the vet and I pay for her food," Logan said, slowly. "Listen, is something wrong? Do you need me to cover rent this month?"
Wade scoffed and marched off to the kitchen, which Logan could see from the adjacent living room, and he listened to Wade as he went about sorting through their fridge. The pickles went onto the counter, then back in the fridge, onto the counter again, and a second later they went back into the fridge. Logan let Wade continue with his Kondo-method-organising of the fridge for a few minutes until he had decided he was finished, and then he went on to organising the spice-slash-instant food cupboard instead. Logan simply sat and watched him, turning off the TV when he realised that whatever was making Wade like this was serious, and Logan pet Mary on her strange bald body when she came back over. When he was done, Wade leaned his hands on the counter, facing away from Logan.
"Look," Logan said, "I get that communication isn't our strong suit. You mask it with jokes and I don't share it at all, but you're confusing me. I don't know what's wrong. Is this about money? Is it my job? Who I hang out with, or something else?"
Wade's shoulders raised and fell, and he tugged off the mask. "What does the Punisher have that I don't?"
Logan looked to the side and then back. "I guess he dies more easily."
From over his shoulder, Wade's gaze was piercing. "Is that what you're into?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Why are you comparing yourself to Frank?"
"Oh, it's Frank now!" Wade spun around. "Frank? Frank. Frank is going to die tonight if I have anything to say about it. The Thing and Hawkeye, too."
"So, it is who I hang out with." Logan stood up and Mary landed on the floor, wagging her tail. "Wade, Frank asked for my help with this." He gestured to the TV to demonstrate. "I talked to him, the Thing and Hawkeye because they're being affected by it, too. Is that really such a big deal? You and Spidey were getting involved with it, too, and it's not like I'm putting the costume back on for their sakes. For fuck's sake, I live with you. Not them. And it's not like I can stop Frank from walking into the bodega."
"Claws don't work around Frank, even if other parts of your anatomy do. Got it."
"Wade," Logan snapped, and then forced himself to calm down. I'm trying to help people here, not as Wolverine but as, you know—“ He gestured to himself, and he felt lame before he had even finished his sentence. "I know you're interested in keeping the peace and collecting bounties, but sometimes people like you and I can make a difference without wearing the suit."
Wade put the pickles back into the fridge and then walked over, and he looped his arms around Logan's neck in a loose hug. Logan's hands rested on Wade's hips.
"That's great." Wade cleared his throat. "Really great. I'm sorry for thinking that you were cheating on me with the Punisher and the Thing and also Hawkeye."
Logan blinked a few times. "What—?"
There came a 'thwip' sound from the open window and Mary yelped, and all of a sudden Lizard-Man was holding their dog.
"See ya, chumps," he said, and jumped.
There was also a noise which might have been his costume creaking, but it was hard to say, since with a snarl, Logan was after him. He could hear Wade launch himself out of the window after Lizard-Man, but Logan also heard the thump and yelp when Wade hit the floor three stories below, and Logan chased Lizard-Man as he crawled across the side of the building with expert precision. He looked like Spider-Man — any of them — when he scuttled along walls and he made a noise like someone repeatedly tapping all of their fingers on a wooden surface. It was a disconcerting one, for sure, but it made him easier to track.
More concerning was how much Mary was whimpering. Logan could hear Wade calling out to her from the street below, but with Logan hot on his trail, Lizard-Man was not slowing down. Cars honked and Wade squealed as he was hit, and Black Cat appeared like an unwelcome smell in an elevator. Logan snarled.
"Well, hello—“ she purred, or attempted to, because she yelped when Logan's claws crashed down into the vent system behind her.
Lizard-Man appeared on the roof and dropped Mary, who was still covered in whatever the hell kind of white substance that was, onto the ground. "This one?" Lizard-Man called.
"Yep!" she yelped and dived out of Logan's two-hundred-pound-of-sheer-force stabbing.
Her cartoonish moves were nothing compared to Lizard-Man's unexplainable logic and he squirted another load of unpleasant white substance onto Logan when he tried to swipe at her again, only this time...
"Web?" Logan asked.
"It's not web!" Lizard-Man leapt with the grace of a gymnast when Logan turned his stab onto him. "It's a chemical compound more similar to the saliva of a chameleon than a spider's web."
Logan shredded it. It got caught between his laws but he was no longer attached to Lizard-Man via the web. "Cool." He gave it another stab. "Really good thing to discuss in a fight."
This time, when Logan took a swipe at Black Cat he caught Lizard-Man instead and gave him two new leg piercings for his trouble. Lizard-Man wailed, throwing off Black Cat's game, and Logan elbowed her in the nose. Blood squirted out of her like she was in a two-dime pulp comic and she cursed using symbols Logan couldn't describe, but Lizard-Man was busy. He caught Logan's next punch (and Logan had to add 'super strong' to his mental list of Lizard-Man's abilities) and webbed him in the face.
Logan's curse wasn't in strange symbols and he shouted, "Fuck!" when Black Cat wrenched his head back and jammed in the neck him with a needle. It didn't even hit a vein, but its potency was like being hit by a truck. Damned cartoon logic.
"Goodnight, Mr Howlett," Black Cat said, looking down on him.
Logan couldn't respond. It all went dark.