Chapter Text
Morph was looking for a deck of cards. A deck of cards they had hidden so Gambit wouldn't steal it. But apparently, they had hidden it a little too well. Which was how Morph found themselves digging through the desk in the room they shared with Logan.
The bottom drawer stuck slightly when Morph tried to pull it open. "Huh."
They tugged harder. Something shifted, and a black notebook slid forward. The cover was plain and a little worn around the edges.
For a moment, they considered putting it back and continuing their search for the cards. Then curiosity won, it usually did.
"Sorry, Logan."
They opened it.
The first page read:
Morph,
My therapist says I'm supposed to write things down.
This is stupid.
But I said I'd try.
You're gonna laugh if you ever see this.
-Logan
Morph laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed.
They turned the page.
The early entries made them smile.
Logan complaining about therapy, complaining about Scott, complaining about movie night.
Mostly Logan complaining.
Little snapshots of ordinary life. Tiny moments Morph barely remembered.
Their smile faded as Logan wrote about the Sentinel at the mall.
Their stomach dropped as they read:
Maybe after this mission's done we could head up to my cabin for a few days.
Morph swallowed hard. They already knew what came next.
The next page hit like a punch.
I saw you die.
Morph stared at the words. At the shaky handwriting. At the ink pressed hard enough to nearly tear through the paper.
Their vision blurred. "Oh, Logan..."
They kept reading. Entry after entry. Page after page.
The denial, the anger, the guilt, the grief, the loneliness, the pain.
Every terrible day laid bare. All the things Logan never said out loud. All the things he'd carried by himself.
Morph wiped at their eyes but kept reading.
Somewhere along the way, the entries changed.
Morph couldn't pinpoint exactly where. At first, they were about grief, about loss, about surviving.
Then they became stories. Little pieces of Logan's day. Things he wished he could tell them. Things he still wanted to share. The cabin, the coffee shop, Jubilee, sunsets, memories, and dreams.
And then…
I love you.
I loved you before your death.
I loved you when we argued.
I loved you when you stole my clothes.
I loved you when you drove me insane.
I loved you when you made me laugh.
I loved you when you sat beside me after nightmares.
I loved you every day.
I still love you.
By the time they reached the final entry, tears were falling freely down their face.
I got my best friend back.
I got the person I love back.
Morph had to stop reading for a moment. Their hand came up to cover their mouth. Logan had spent two years mourning them. Two years loving them. And the moment he'd gotten them back, he'd already been thinking about a future.
The bedroom door opened. "Hey, did you find—"
Morph looked up.
Logan was standing in the doorway. His eyes were locked on the notebook. Then on Morph. Then back to the notebook. He looked like he wanted the floor to open beneath him.
"Oh."
Morph held up the journal slightly. "You wrote to me?"
Logan immediately looked down. The tips of his ears were turning red. "You weren't supposed to read that."
"Every entry is addressed to me."
"Yeah."
"For two years?"
Logan rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah."
"And half of them have pet names."
"Don't."
"My little loon?"
"Don't."
"My little Versailles?"
Logan covered his face.
Morph burst out laughing. The laugh broke halfway through and turned into tears.
Logan's expression immediately shifted as he crossed the room, sat beside them, and pulled them into his arms. "I really didn't think you'd ever read it."
Morph buried their face against his neck.
Years. Years of grief. Years of love. Years of missing someone he'd believed was gone forever.
"You... you really thought I was dead."
"Yeah."
Logan held them tighter. Like he always did nowadays. Like he always would.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
The journal sat forgotten on the bed beside them.
Finally, Morph pulled back just enough to look at him.
"You know..."
Logan narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"For a guy who claims to hate writing—"
"Morph."
"—you write really good love letters."
Logan groaned.
Morph grinned.
Then leaned forward and kissed him.
When they pulled apart, Logan rested his forehead against theirs.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The kind he only ever wore around them.
"Can we just put that back and forget about it?"
"Nope."
Logan sighed. "No one was supposed to read the last part."
Morph laughed. "The love letter part?"
"The… uh.. petname part."
Morph laughed harder. "Those were the best part, though."
"Of course you think they were."
Still smiling, Morph reached back and picked up the journal.
Holding it carefully against their chest. Like something precious.
Because it was. Not because it was a journal. Not because it was therapy homework. But because it was proof. Proof that they had been loved. Even when Logan thought they were gone forever.
"Hey, Logan?"
"What?"
Morph smiled through their tears.
"I loved you too. Always will.”