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Logan knows somethin’ ain't right. Fuckin’ ‘course somethin’ ain’t right, seein’ as he don’t got no fuckin’ memories, but there’s somethin’ that don’t feel right. Somethin’ he should remember, that...feels important he remembers. He doesn’t like the idea of Chuck goin’ diggin’ ‘round his mind. It’s a fucked up place, he knows that much without even knowin’ half the shit he knows but—
There’s somethin’ there. Somethin’ that has him sleeping curled up on his side with a pillow tucked to his chest, somethin’ that has him splittin’ up his food ‘fore he eats ‘cause he don’t need as much as a baseline. Has him turnin’ to tell someone shit that ain’t there. There’s just...there’s just somethin’ there that’s missin’ and it shouldn’t be missin’.
So he goes to Chuck, half scared outta his goddamn mind ‘cause he’s dealt with telepaths before, and what he remembers ‘bout them ain’t nothin’ good. But he needs to know, and Chuck’s offered him a few times to look if he needs it. Logan doesn’t know what he needs ‘cause he doesn’t know what he’s missin’, but he knows it’s important.
And if it’s as important as he thinks it is without even knowin’ what the fuck it is, well, he’s gotta find out.
“Hiya, soldier,” Logan purrs, droppin’ his voice real low in a way that makes John smile at him with dark eyes. Logan grins right back, scootin’ over on his cot and makin’ space. “You in here for a smoke?” he asks, real innocent like. John snorts at him, and he’s the prettiest fuckin’ thing Logan’s ever seen.
“Yeah, Serg, I’m here for a smoke,” John tells him, voice just as deep, and soon as the tent flap is rufflin’ closed behind him he’s droppin’ to his knees. Logan grins shark-like, not at all upset ‘bout how things are proceeding. “Just not looking for the type of smoke the other boys think I’m looking for.”
“That right, Johnny?” he asks, leanin’ back and proppin’ himself onto his elbows so he can enjoy the show while bein’ comfortable. And damn, is it ever a fuckin’ show, John in uniform pants and a thin fuckin’ tank, crawling towards him with the most effective pair ‘a baby blue bedroom eyes he’s ever had turned on him. He can’t help a smile, feelin’ like a fuckin’ fool when his heart flutters.
“Well, it’s Christmas, after all. I figured I should get my Sergeant a gift for looking after us all so well,” John tells him with another one of those dirty, dirty grins that make him forget his goddamn name, loopy with lust. Logan’s already real hard, and what’s packin’ ain't nothin’ to scoff at. John knows that, seein’ as they’ve done this more times than Logan can count, more times than he’s done it with anyone before, drawn in by John’s easy goin’ nature and the pureness ‘a his heart.
Damn, but he’s gettin’ real sentimental with age, ain’t he?
“This a present then, soldier?” Logan asks, breath hitchin’ when John gets to him, big, steady palms slidin’ up his bare thighs and makin’ him shiver, already so hard he’s nearly achin’ with it just seein’ the beautiful boy down on his needs when—
John pulls a bow from behind his back and plops it onto his hair.
Logan laughs so fuckin’ hard his belly aches, bent over and holdin’ himself together, laughin’ and laughin’, gazin’ at John through tears that are built up in his eyes, still hard and ready to go but feelin’ so damn happy and so damn lucky that he wonders if his heart is gonna burst outta his chest.
“C’mere,” he says, gettin’ John’s smilin’ face between his hands and pullin’ him up so he can kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. “You’re fuckin’ amazing.”
“I love you too, Serg,” John whispers ‘gainst his lips, and Logan holds him tighter, kisses him softer, wishin’ he was a strong enough man to say the words back.
Even without bein’ a mutant, Chuck’s able to find John after lookin’ through his head. Logan is glad he went ahead and did it, ‘cause he sure as hell isn’t in no frame of mind to ask him to. Rememberin’ John comes with rememberin’ a whole fuckin’ decade he’d lost and it bites, ‘cause they were good years.
Logan had joined a war, ‘cause fightin’ was what he was good at and him bein’ shot at meant other men who couldn’t take a bullet like he could weren’t bein’ shot at as often. It had been a good time, better than some others, and when the offer to become a Sergeant was offered—he took it.
Then he fell in love with Johnathon Stilinski.
It makes Logan wanna burn the whole world down, now that he knows what he was missin’. John was, is, more important to him than he can ever ‘member anyone bein’. It pisses him the fuck off that those years were taken from him, tortured outta him after bein’ captured in the war. If things had gone differently...
Well, they didn’t fuckin’ go differently, so what-ifs don’t fuckin’ matter to no one. All there is is now, Logan knows that real well, and it’s why as soon as Chuck tells him where to go, he’s goin’.
He takes an X-jet, not exactly askin’ no one. Nobody stops him, so he figures its fair game, and makes his way straight to California. He has no plan, no idea what the hell he’s doin’, but a whole lotta love and a whole lotta years to make up for. He doesn’t wanna think about how John must think he’s dead, how he’s mourned him and...well, Chuck said there was a got a kid, so there’s probably someone else in his life by now.
Well, he doesn’t need to be upsettin’ himself before he knows the whole story. Who knows what the hell happened after he got back onto home soil—John was only ‘posed to be doin’ the one tour, wantin’ to be a cop. Now that Logan’s got his memories back, he knows that John had wanted lots ‘a things Logan hadn’t been able to give him, then.
Maybe he can give him them now? Fuck, he’s gettin’ ahead ‘a himself. Focusin’, Logan lands the jet in a field he finds close by to where he needs to be, keepin’ the jets camouflage engaged. It’s late ‘nough that there shouldn’t be too many folks around, but it is Christmas Eve. Which, damn, might not be the best time to show up, but...
Logan gets outta the jet and follows the map Chuck put in his mind. After a few blocks, Logan takes a deep breath and doesn’t need to do nothin’ but breathe and track his boy’s scent to a nice house on a nice street. Walkin’ up to the door makes him feel real outta place. He’s not the type ‘a man to live somewhere like this, not with the shit he’s been through.
Fuck. Logan needs to knock. Needs to grow a fuckin’ pair and get it over with but...shit, the man he loves could be right inside that door, after decades of bein’ apart. Is it even fair of Logan to show up? Chuck had said there was a kid but...Logan’s lost so much. So, so fuckin’ much, that he just wants this one thing.
Is that too much to fuckin’ ask for after everythin’?
He closes his eyes and takes a real deep breath, doin’ his best to ignore the stench ‘a alcohol comin’ from the house and focusin’ on what he can smell. Just as he’s reachin’ for the door, a kid he hadn’t even heard walk up opens it for him, looks him up and down, and says, “That took too long.”
“Uh,” Logan trails off real uselessly, whole plan thrown out the window by a kid who looks too young to be answerin’ doors. He’s never sure how to talk to kids and ‘specially not this kid, who’s probably the kid of the man he loves. The boy scrunches up his face but doesn’t move or call for anyone. Tryin’ for a smile, he says, “Jonathon Stilinski live here?”
The kid rolls his eyes and huffs like he just said somethin’ real stupid. Logan doesn’t let it bother him, since it’s just a kid. Eventually, he nods and starts tapping his foot. Well then. “I’m uh, a friend of your dad’s.”
The kid snorts and rolls his eyes again. “No you’re not,” he starts, and just when Logan’s openin’ his mouth to protest, adds, “At least, that’s not what you want to be, is it?”
“‘Nother telepath, huh?” Logan mutters, lookin’ down at the slip ‘a boy with a frown. The kid’s skinny, too skinny, and not just lanky like he first thought. His wrists look weak enough to snap, even without his strength.
“What of it?” the kid asks, and next thing Logan knows he’s bendin’ in half and clutchin’ at his head as his whole body whites out in pain. Fuck, fuckin’ fuckity fuck. “Dad says swearing isn’t polite.”
The pain ebbs away slowly, and when Logan can finally stand up straight again the kid is lookin’ at him with more attitude than he would’ve thought could fit in a body that size. Little shit even has his arms crossed, huh. He’s kinda cute, for a small punch with attitude. The boy rolls his eyes again and says, “You can come in, but don’t try anything.”
“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that,” Logan mutters, knocking off his shoes on the step to be polite before steppin’ in. He doesn’t got a bag, seein’ as he’d just left as soon as Charles told him where to go, which may not have been the best idea.
“You think?” the kid asks, and then the door closes behind him without either one of them movin’. Huh. “And my name is Stiles, if you want to stop calling me kid.”
Logan nods in greetin’ but doesn’t say nothin’ else. He don’t like that this kid—Stiles, which is a real funky name—seems to be in his thoughts so freely, but he also don’t like how skinny he is. The shirt he’s wearin’, a big plaid that fits him like a damn dress, smells of John, and Logan finds himself breathin’ in real deep just to get more ‘a the scent into his lungs.
He turns the corner the kid leads him ‘round, and nearly walks right into him.
“He still loves you,” Stiles says quietly, lookin’ at his pop’s passed out form laid out over the couch, a blanket coverin’ him but not coverin’ the bottles all over the floor. The words leave him reelin’, tryin’ to breathe and not bein’ able to get air into his lungs. He almost doesn’t hear it when Stiles says, “He loved my mom too, but she’s dead.”
Logan doesn’t say nothin’, doesn’t know what the fuck he can say, but after a long minute of silence, he puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. He knows grief. Knows what it feels like to lose the people you love. To lose himself. The man before him isn’t the army boy he loved, that’s for fuckin’ sure, but he was. Maybe he can be again, or maybe he won’t, but they can still love each other.
Logan’s gotta hope, gotta cling to the memories he has since he’s got nothin’ else left.
Stiles doesn’t do nothin’, but he doesn’t pull away either. Eventually, he says, “You can take a shower and use the spare room if you’d like.”
“Sure.”
Are you going to stay? Stiles’ voice in his mind doesn’t feel like Chuck’s. It ain’t invasive, don’t feel outta place. It’s kinda nice, and Logan tries his best to think loudly to say, Nah, I’m gonna stick ‘round for a bit. That cool with you?
Stiles shrugs, which seems like answer ‘nough. Logan squeezes his shoulder and wishes he could do somethin’. The kid’s sad, it’s fuckin’ obvious, and by the smell of this place and the bottles everywhere, this probably ain’t the first time John’s done somethin’ like this.
Fuckin’ hell. This sure as shit ain’t what Logan signed up for, but he climbs the stairs and finds the bathroom, passes a room that smells like John but looks unused, and knows he’s gonna stick around for as long as it takes to get shit sorted out here. John may not love him, may not ever love him again, but he’s gotta make sure his boy’s alright before he can go.
Logan’s probably not the best person to make sure anyone’s alright, but he’s gonna try.
Logan wakes breathless, claws out in front ‘a him but arms not movin’. When he tries to move ‘em he can’t, then a second later his claws are slidin’ back under his skin and he’s lyin’ back onto the bed without ever doin’ a damn thing. The door opens without anyone touchin’ it, and Stiles comes into his room without touchin’ the ground.
Logan doesn’t say nothin’ when he crawls into his bed that night. He doesn’t say nothin’ when a little, bony hand presses against his temple and soothes his mind. He still doesn’t say nothin’ either when the kid curls up against his chest—he feels too cold, and Logan’s a goddamn furnace with his mutation, so he might as well share it.
He doesn’t say nothin’, just wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist and holds him close. He’ll say somethin’ to John in the mornin’, whether the man wants him ‘round or not. ‘Cause this is seemin’ like the family he could’ve had, if his life wasn’t what it was, and he really wants to see if he can still have it.