Archive of Our Own

It’s like having freckles, some people have it while some people don’t. Soulmates are just the same. It’s not uncommon, it’s just not for everyone. And the only way to find out that you have one is meeting them through vivid dreams.

The first time James Howlett met his, it was way back in the eighteen hundreds. He haven’t manifested to his mutation yet, meaning he was frail and prone to bouts of allergic attacks. He was young, very young, he can’t remember his age that well, once you’ve started living in a life where people gets to die before you, counting your own age doesn’t really matter anymore once it felt more of an annoying reminder.

James had just managed to hit the snooze button and slipped into dreamland when he found himself waking up in his own room, standing by the doorway, wasn’t he supposed to be lying in his bed? Looking through one of the windows, instead of seeing a dark sky with small shining dots above it, he saw nothing but a blanket of white, a clean empty slate. No garden, no sky, no nothing, it was as if he was in a dimension were his room is the only thing available.

James’s eyebrows furrowed down deeply.

A small gurgling sound made him turn around trying to find the source while an evident scowl was plastered on his face. Looking from left to right, he saw nothing but the clean corners of his room. I light tug on his bottoms made him look down and discover a baby by his feet, yanking on his clothes as if it was a toy.

James just stared.

It took him a moment or two before managing to grab a hold of himself by yanking his feet back and causing for the baby to tumble forward, as if trying to get a hold of it again. There was a strangled noise coming from the child, obviously trying his best to capture the suddenly moving cloth. It was getting pretty annoying to James.

“Hey.” He called out annoyingly, making the baby flinch and look up but still managing to maintain his firm grip on his garments.

James found himself looking through a pair of huge blue eyes staring curiously at him, mouth partly open while drool was about to roll out of his mouth, he momentarily forgot what he was about to say and he’d like to assume that it has nothing to do with how round the kid’s cheeks were. James just noticed how strange the baby’s garments were, his hands and head were the only thing jutting out of his clothes while the fabric covering his body was fitted firmly around him.

This was when Logan concluded that he was dreaming, what other explanation can there be?

Crouching down, he took the baby by the armpits and hoisted him up, keeping him away at arm’s length. They exchanged curious stares but with James the only one scowling.

“Where the hell did ya came from?” He asked himself, knowing that this baby won’t be able to answer anyway. He shook his head and placed him down on his bed, “My dream’s very imaginative.”

Without noticing, the baby stretched out his right hand and leaned forward, trying to get a hold of his shirt. The first grip on his clothes made James look down and give this kid a cold stare. This baby really likes his clothes.

“Who are you?”

But then he woke up.

It took him a few days to realize that he just saw his soulmate, (dreams aren’t vivid, it only happens when you get to meet your other half which was a common knowledge), took him another more to wonder if the kid lives from another dimension, then just a few seconds to realize their probably huge age gap.

The second time James saw him, several years had gone by, he grew up and many things had already happened. Three bone claws can now sprung out through his knuckles, and with it, he apparently killed his real father, Thomas Logan, his mother killed herself, his half-brother is hunting him and the only person who he has left was Rose, his former maidservant and playmate. They fled the mansion in order to save themselves and managed to arrive in Yukon Territories in Canada. Pretending to be cousins as James started calling himself Logan in order to hide his identity.

There, Logan gained his nickname “Wolverine” from the miners and finds that he likes it a lot. His powers grew; he became stronger and his healing factor managed to remove most of his traumatic memories from his childhood. He accepted his feral nature and started hunting through the woods with a pack of wolves.

At this point, Logan had somehow found himself developing strong feelings for Rose, but he didn’t want to act on it, not when everyone knows that they’re cousins. It was a frustrating thought, especially now that the women who he have been spending his life with is now falling in love with a different man.

Logan found himself hunting in the middle of the night to get away from his thoughts, thinking’s not usually his thing and it pisses him off. After hours and hours of darting through the trees as the moon shines above them, Logan found himself falling asleep on the cold dirt.

He later found himself in a room and immediately concluded that he’s in a fucking dream, because no way in hell was there a place like this in the real world. He found himself in a room filled with… odd shits. Nothing was familiar, other than the toddler playing on a carpet with a small four wheeled vehicle.

Then he remembered.

“Yev got to ge fucking kidding me.” Logan exclaimed causing for the boy to flinch aggressively and look up at the sudden visitor, “Yer still a fucking kid?” He exclaimed, he earned nothing but a silent stare. Of course he doesn’t remember him, how can a fucking baby remember him? The only thing that the kid did back then was to try and grab a hold of his shirt.

Logan found himself crouching down to look at him, the baby didn’t do anything other than stare at his probably scowling face, “Hey, I don’t care where the fuck ya are, but if yer planning to catch up on me, ya better start growing,” He ordered, the kid only blinked at him before Logan started gesturing with all of the stuff around them “And ya might want to tell me what the fuck are these stuff and—why the hell am I talking to a damn two year old?!”

Logan suddenly felt two soft small chubby hands on both sides of his face. His mouth closed shut with a click as he watched this kid ran his curious little fingers across his facial hair, staring and pulling at it. One harsh tug made Logan say ‘Hey’ a bit too harshly but the kid didn’t even gave two shits to give a fuck.

They stayed like that for a moment, Logan watching and the kid studying him. Looking closely, he seemed to grow up for only a year, probably even less than a year.

“What’s yer name?” He found himself asking, voice low and uncharacteristically soft.

Logan wasn’t able to receive an answer, instead, he found himself getting licked awake by one of the wolves.

The third time Logan saw him again, he was confident that the kid had somehow grew up even just by a bit after his many years in life. Those years of living in the woods with the wolves after unintentionally killing Rose, somehow managing to be under Victor’s shit list and ended up killing another few more people because his life is tragic and nature’s the only thing that probably accepts him.

It took him a while to return back to the civilization, and what’s more welcoming than finding yourself in the woods after closing your eyes for just a few seconds.

The familiar green grass and tall trees were comforting, but the blank white sky was a bit out place considering how colourful his surroundings were. Looking around, Logan reminded himself that every time he meets his soulmate in a dream, there always has to be a place from a distance that is nothing but a clean and empty slate.

There was a soft giggle from behind.

“Please be fucking older, please be fucking older, please be fucking older.” Logan found himself mumbling under his breath. Exhaling roughly through his nose, he turned around and saw the same kid sitting down on the dirt, pulling out the grass, giggling to himself as if plucking out the stems are very entertaining.

“There’s no fucking change!” Logan yelled to obviously no one while griping his hair furiously, the kid made a startled jump. Shoulders hiked up as he stare at Logan with a surprised open mouth. It’s probably because of his round cheeks but Logan find the action way cuter than baby bunnies, “I don’t even fucking know how old I am now and here ya are instead, still a freaking toddler who don’t know how to damn speak.”

“Fak!” The kid exclaimed before giggling to himself, Logan suddenly found his own eyes dangerously widening, only thing left was for it to pop out off his sockets.

“Holy shit.” He cursed again out of habit.

“Shit!” The kid repeated.

“No!” Logan immediately yelled, the baby didn’t even flinched, he just laughed at him, “Don’t ya fucking repeat what I— I just freaking said it again, goddammit!” He cursed again unintentionally.

“Fak!” He exclaimed again before laughing at himself. Giggling with his cute tiny voice that Logan didn’t knew he sort of… missed? They’ve only met twice and none of it was actually significant enough for Logan to think it was a very special moment. To him, these events aren’t really something he should be missing, not when it only happens once after many years.

“Well it’s a good thing I ain’t meeting yer parents yet.” He grumbled before sitting down on the grass beside the kid, spreading his legs and placing his palms downwards to lean back on his shoulders, “I’m too damn old for this.”

Without any form of hesitation, Logan felt the kid moving closer towards him before climbing on top of his lap, noting how his brown hair had become longer. The kid wiggled and squirmed between Logan’s legs as the older man watched him, he moved and wormed on his spot before coming to a decision that leaning his back against Logan’s stomach was the best position before returning on plucking at the grass.

“Aren’t ya snuggly?,” Logan found himself stating but not really expecting for a reply. Looking up and staring at the blank sky, Logan closed his eyes then breathed.

“Scott,”

Logan’s eyes snapped open, “What?” he asked dumbly while immediately looking down, the kid had his upper body twisted around to face Logan, a small finger pointing at his own chest.

“Scott,” he repeated before tapping a finger repetitively over his heart, “Scott.”

It took Logan a moment to realize that the kid was telling him his name. He found himself opening his damn mouth and closing it again for numerous times as Scott stare up at him, a blank expression plastered across his face. He remembered asking for the kid’s name before, Logan wondered if Scott had remembered it, he somehow doubts it.

“Logan,” He told the kid instead, pointing his right index finger on his chest.

Scott only nodded once before promptly turning around to return back on pulling at the leaves.

Logan had stopped counting the years, it sits weirdly on his gut knowing that your soulmate’s probably hundreds of years younger than you, it’s honestly a different level of, well, bullshitness. He should probably start learning new knowledgeable words, when you started using curse words in explaining things you don’t understand says something, and no, it’s not in a positive way.

Life's getting weirder and weirder the longer Logan stays alive, the bastard, Victor, now started calling himself Sabretooth and apparently had put him on the top of his shit list. Logan couldn’t actually care less.

Currently, he’s staying somewhere in Japan. Taking a temporary room in a small inn, he doesn’t give any shit about the name of the building or even the quality of it, as long as he have a room to sleep in then he’s good. Logan had just came back after a good drink before lying face down on the mattress. It took him a moment to fall asleep but when he did, Logan woke up in a fucking odd room just as the one years ago, but this time it looks different. He assumed that this wasn’t Scott’s room, not after noticing a cradle.

It’s either Scott had turned younger or that this wasn’t his bedroom.

If it’s the former, he’ll probably bash his head on something hard once he wakes up, it’s not like he can die from that anyway.

“You shouldn’t be here,” A boyish voice from behind said, Logan turned to see Scott for the first time standing on his feet and already looking up at him, his eyebrows were furrowed and obviously not giving a trusting look on him. The kid’s already judging him the minute he showed up, he didn’t know if he should be pissed off or proud that within a young age he already knows what a bad guy looks like.

To be fair, he does look like a bad, and he’s definitely not a good guy that’s for sure.

“And now you can talk.” Was his immediate reaction, Scott’s nose scrunched up in confusion.

He looked bigger, older, but still too fucking young, it looked like another year had only gone by for him again, while on the other hand Logan’s already on the road to become older than dirt.

“Where’s here?” Logan asked instead, crouching down to look at him making the kid’s eyebrow to furrow deeper and mouth to curve downward, somehow making his pink round cheeks more prominent, for a moment he wanted to pinch that filled up skin just for the heck of it, see what the kid’s reaction would be.

“Alex’s room,” He answered still frowning and taking a conscious step back, “Stranger’s aren’t supposed to be here.”

Logan smirked, the kind were kids are supposed to turn away and run, “We ain’t in his room,” he said.

Scott only blinked at him twice, blue eyes getting annoyingly prominent and it’s fucking stupid. His frown decreased a little before he turned to look through a window, probably noticing the clean blank view of the outside, three second later, he turned to look at Logan before poking a curious finger at his face.

Logan scowled, “The hell are ya doing?”

“That’s a bad word,” Scott stated, still poking.

Logan gave it a thought, “The hell are ya doing?” He repeated because the kid already know what’s bad and not, he’s sure Scott won’t probably copy him at any moment.

With an exaggerated huff, Scott’s arm fell back down with a soft thud from the layers of his still weird clothes, “Just checking,” He said before adding, “You’re so old.”

Logan was sure his frown just turned dangerously scary, “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t fuckin heard that.”

“You said another bad word.”

“Yeah well what’cha gonna do about it? Tell yer mom?”

Scott didn’t said anything, he just blinked at him before perking his head up as if he just remembered something. He swivelled to and marched towards the crib to peer down. Curious, Logan stood up and followed the kid only to discover that he’s looking at an empty crib, looking at a weird empty crib.

“Alex’s isn’t here.” Scott said flatly.

“Who’s Alex?”

The boy looked up at him with a blank expression, “My younger brother,” he answered, “I’m supposed to look after him, that’s what big brothers do.”

“Yer brother’s not here.” He said, “How old are you?”

“Four,” Scott answered automatically, as if he was trained to say it. There was a moment of silence where the kid’s ears turned a shade of pink, his lips were pressed together while fidgeting with his fingers, as if he was hesitating, “H-how about you?”

Logan was supposed to say old, but he decided against it, “I stopped counting.” Scott nodded as if it was for himself. Logan shifted his weight and tipped his head to the right, the gears in his head somehow turning after years of gathering dust, “Ya know that this is more than a dream do ya?”

There was no nod this time, only silence that obviously translates as ‘yes’.

Logan realized that the kid’s smart, either that or he’s too mature for his age. Somehow he started wondering what kind of life does he have.

“This is getting weirder.” Scott stated, his voice squeaky as if sounding under pressure, “What’s your name?” he asked instead.

But then there was a sudden jolt and the kid was gone. Logan knew somewhere in a different time, Scott woke up first, wondering what’s the grizzly looking guy’s name was.

“Where are we?” Scott asked the moment Logan fell unconscious.

Looking around and staring at the buildings around him, Logan immediately knew where he was, “Madripoor.”

There was an expectant confused reaction, nose scrunching up and head tilting sideways making him look like the kind of person you would want to pinch his cheeks until it fell off. Scott’s still looking adorable and still very young, it’s annoying, it’s very fucking annoying because if he ever developed feelings for him and still looking like this, he’ll probably douse himself with holy water as soon as he woke up.

“That’s not a real place.” Scott stated.

Logan stared at him as they walk down the empty streets, “What makes you think that?”

“There’s no Madripoor on any maps,” He answered as if to state the obvious.

The older man’s face scrunched up, “What the hell is a six year old studying maps for? Aren’t kids yer age supposed to play outside and ya know, be kids?”

“I’m six and a half thank you very much,” He fumed sounding and acting very much like his age now, “And I don’t like playing outside with the other kids.” He answered a bit sheepishly while staring down on his shoes, Logan got a feeling that Scott doesn’t like being around a lot of people, “My dad’s a pilot in the U.S Air Force, he has a lot of maps, I borrow it sometimes.” He added, raising his chin up and looking a bit proud.

Logan tried not to ask what the fuck a U.S. Air force is, for all he know he’s currently back in Canada staying in a cabin. Sleeping.

Then he paused, Scott, who noticed that the older man had stopped walking, also paused and turned around, “What?”

“It hasn’t been a decade and I’m already seeing ya.” Logan stated.

“What’s a decade?” The kid asked instead, asking the right questions as he always is.

“You study maps in your free time and you don’t know what the fuck is a decade?” Logan asked, Scott’s nose scrunched up again, he does this whenever the older man curses.

Scott blinked at him. Logan has too remind himself his souldmate’s still a kid no matter how mature he seems to act. He exhaled and scratched his jaw, “A shorter term for ten years.”

The reaction was in an instant. The kid’s already huge eyes widened while his mouth had dropped open, “How old are you?!”

And yes, he was already expecting for that reaction, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get pissed by it. Logan grew to realize that Scott meets him once in a year, while on the other hand, he gets to see him once after many years, more than decades, probably. Logan hates counting.

He knew he doesn’t age, but Scott doesn’t.

“If I meet you, you’d be looking like my great, great, great, granpa,” He announced exaggeratingly like any other kid when they’re surprised, “And my grandpa’s dead!”

A fond smirk was fighting it's way to show up on Logan’s face. Crouching down to have his face levelled with the kid, Logan playfully squinted his eyes on him and said, “Are ya telling me ya want to meet me?”

He was teasing, Scott blushing is cuter than baby bunnies, and nothing can change his mind on that. But when the kid replied, he wasn’t ready for it, “Why wouldn’t I?” He asked as if the thought of not wanting to meet each other never crossed his mind before, “We’re soulmates.” He added sounding as if that was good enough of a reason.

Logan stared at him, he doesn’t have any fucking clue what kind of expression he has on his face but he’s pretty sure he’s not smiling. If he was supposed to say something, Logan had long forgotten, the next thing he knew, he was being woken up by a loud crash.

Unlike before, Logan had counted the years when he’ll dream of Scott again, and by the time it happened, he was right that it doesn’t take him more than a decade anymore to dream of him. Somehow, it told Logan that the shorter the days he waits, the nearer he’ll meet him. He felt giddy somehow, it’s fucking annoying.

In those years that followed, Logan had travelled all around the world, killing and fighting, experiencing the first world war and learning a lot of different languages. Became a fucking samurai, assassin, mercenary, spy and other more shits, only thing left for him is to be a damn nurse. He’s been into many wars, seen a lot of people die, and now, he’s currently lying on the lower bunk bed, resting, because Hitler is a jerk and the second World War couldn’t get any more shittier than this.

Once he closed his eyes, Logan found himself sitting on a wooden bench and immediately saw Scott playing by the sandbox. They seemed to be in a park, someplace he still doesn’t know after walking around the earth numerous times. If his guess was right, Scott’s currently eight years old.

As if having some sort of sixth sense, Scott’s head perked up and turned to look at the older mutant, he immediately stood up, patted his jeans and ran towards him to start pulling at his wrist, “C’mon, come oooooon,” He said, pulling harder, with Logan’s buff form, it honestly did nothing, but watching how Scott was so adamant on making the older man stand up, Logan complied.

“I don’t know how to build a sandcastle.” Logan stated the moment his hands started digging through the sand.

“Me neither, but my dad said that the experience is good enough,” Scott replied, eyes on the wet lump of sand in front of him, he looks cute when he’s concentrating too hard, tongue jutting out of his mouth like a cartoon, “How’s being a samurai?”

Oh yeah, he remembered telling the kid about that a few years ago, “Uhhh, I dunno, like a samurai I guess, that was already a few years ago,” he said while tapping on the stubborn bucket that wouldn’t let the sand fall out, Scott nodded as if understanding, “Now, I’m in the middle of trying to kick Hitler’s ass.” He continued.

Scott stilled and raised his head, eyes wide and surprised, “Like, world war two Hitler? That Hitler?”

Logan gave him a look, “How does a fucking eight year old know about world war two?”

Scott shrugged, “I like reading books and watching documentary movies.”

Huh, so lately Logan’s been joining a lot of major historical events that’s apparently written in books and is being studied by kids in Scott’s generation. Well it’s a fucking good thing that he doesn’t like taking pictures with the other soldiers.

“Kid ya should start taking my advice and play along with the other kids,” Logan told him instead, and as usual, Scott ignored him and returned on digging the sand. This just shows how much of an indoor person his soulmate is and seriously needs to start a life. But it’s not like Logan would press on the topic even more. Back when Scott was seven, Logan had tried to push him into socializing and found the kid forcing himself to wake up instead.

“Did we won?” he asked after noticing the heavy silence.

Scott paused and looked up, “In the war?” Logan wanted to say ‘what else?’ but decided to nod instead, “If I answered that, it would be considered cheating so I don’t know.”

Logan gaped at him, “You smart bastard,” he grumbled.

“That’s another bad word,” He pointed out, “We should probably start making a swear jar, so that if ever we meet I’d be rich.”

Logan’s face scrunched up, “The fuck is a swear jar?”

“When you swear you have to put a dollar in a jar, and right now you have to put in three dollars.”

“No,” was the older man’s flat reply, “I’m fucking broke.”

“That’s now four dollars.” Scott stated instead.

They continued to create a sandcastle after that, the longer they stayed in here, the more Logan dreaded the nearing fact that one of them was about to wake up, leaving the other alone in here. After digging a lake around the poorly made castle which Scott was proud of, Logan found himself opening his mouth.

“Where do ya live?”

Once Scott was finished digging his side of the lake, he answered, “Anchorage, in Alaska,” And yes, Logan haven’t been there yet, he should probably visit it soon once the war’s over, “But I’m currently on a vacation, my dad would fly us back there by tomorrow.”

Logan wanted to say that he didn’t asked, but Scott was gone before he could open his mouth.

Logan wasn’t aware that for Scott, a year had skipped without them meeting. He later realized it after counting down the years without receiving any vivid dreams.

He was outside of a house, a simple house.

Logan spotted Scott sitting by the door, staring at the cloudless sky, studying how empty and clean it looked. At that moment, Logan knew there was something wrong. Scott somehow looked older, but he knew he’s still ten, he just doesn’t look like it anymore.

“This yer house?” He asked, taking long but languid strides as he nears the kid. Without looking at him, Scott nodded, “First time seeing it,” Logan said instead as he take a sit beside him

Scott hummed as a form of answer, long lashes still pointing upwards. The silence had stretched between them, and Logan knew that it will continue out like this, so he asked, “Something wrong?” Scott shook his head, well the kid was still listening, that’s good enough, “Are ya okay?”

There was a pause.

“I’m fine.” Scott answered flatly, Logan doesn’t know if the kid was telling the truth or not. His senses doesn’t work in dreams the way it worked in the real world.

Looking down, Logan stared at his calloused hands, wondering if he should just come clean. The kid deserved to know anyway, but the fact that he’s too young was making him hesitate. Closing his fist, he took a deep breath, “I’ve met someone,” he said, and Logan felt the kid look at him, so he stared at the sky instead, the empty fucking sky, “Japanese, her name’s Itsu.”

“You like her.”

And ok, Logan just remembered how blunt this kid could be, “She’s nice.” He poorly reasoned, “Pretty too.”

Silence.

“Okay.”

Logan had to double take for a minute, his head snapping to stare at the kid beside him, he was surprised to see that Scott doesn’t even look mad, his expression’s blank ever since the dream had started, “Okay?” he asked, sounding bemused, “Okay? Yer not, I dunno, mad?”

“I’m ten, Logan,” Scott reminded him, “And I’m not even alive yet in your time, so you’re not really cheating.” He said sounding as if he’s the older one here and actually making fucking sense, “Besides, I know that you’re not aging, you must’ve been alone for a while now.”

He had a lot to say, his mouth was on the verge of spouting something out when Scott leaned back and said, “Can we just sit here? I don’t want to talk.”

And they did, because the kid wanted it, and it also seem like he needed it.

It was raining in his dream, but it wasn’t making him wet. Logan knew this place, it had been so long since the last time he was here, unpleasant memories resurfaced in his head. Turning, he saw Scott sitting on a bench just in front of the inn Logan once temporary stayed in.

“I like colors.” Was the first thing he said while looking around his surroundings, drinking everything in, eyes moving as if memorizing the nooks and cranny of the place, not at the blank sky that was magically spitting out rain. He looked like he missed it, the colors.

“What, are ya blind now?” Logan joked.

“I have a twenty-twenty vision, Logan,” Scott informed him, slightly sounding offended, “My eyesight is way better than your ridiculous haircut.”

The feral mutant frowned, “The hell’s wrong with my haircut?”

Instead of answering, Scott patted the empty space beside him and somehow making it look like a request. Scratching his jaw, Logan took the sit beside the kid and leaned back, joining him as they watched the empty streets of Japan. Logan wondered what it looked like in Scott’s time, his lack of imagination made him frown on himself.

“How’s Itsu?” Scott asked after a moment of silence.

Logan turned to look at the kid beside him and found that he wasn’t looking back at him, Scott was still staring at his surroundings as if he couldn’t get enough of it. Logan should’ve noticed it by then, but he didn’t.

“Dead,” The older man answered truthfully, “But that was already years ago, I’m back in Canada, living a quiet life in a cabin.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan snorted because the kid obviously didn’t sound sincere, “My parents are dead for over a year now, and I don’t know what happened to my brother.” Scott added, his voice sounding flat, somewhat resigned, as if it hurt him before but there’s no point of crying over it now.

Then Logan remembered a couple of years ago how Scott wanted silence, “Ya said ya were fine.”

“I’m fine right now,” Scott replied too quickly, and Logan knew what an automatic response is when he hears one, he’s been in too many wars and seen too many soldiers to know what it is.

“I call bullshit,” Logan blurted, knowing that there was a scowl forming on his face, “Ya can’t even look at me right now,” he pointed out, “And yav been staring at everywhere like yer in motherfucking wonderland.”

Scott’s face scrunched up, “The cartoon’s already made?”

“What d’ya mean cartoon? I’ve read the book.”

“You read?” The kid asked sounding half bemused and half doubting.

“That ain’t the damn point here, Slim,” Logan snapped.

Scott didn’t said anything, it was obvious that the kid was evading the topic. Maybe he’s becoming too soft, but Logan found himself worming his big calloused hand and intertwined it against Scott’s soft and skinny one. There was no negative reaction, but when Scott squeezed back desperately, Logan knew that he needed the comfort. He didn’t know what the kid was going through, and he’s damn well sure Scott ain’t going to tell it to him today.

“My full name’s Scott Summers,” He said after a moment of silence.

“James Logan Howlett.” Was Logan’s short reply.

The kid didn’t said anything, he just nodded and soon Logan found himself holding onto nothing but air. He knew, and he’s damn well sure of it, Scott had forced himself awake.

Everything was red, it’s hurting his damn eyes.

“Where the fuck are we?!” Logan exclaimed, annoyed and obviously not happy with the current setting.

“My room,” Scott replied flatly while lying down on his bed, “My room in State Home for Foundlings Orphanage.”

“Ya lived in an orphanage?” Logan asked.

Sitting up, Scott grabbed his pillow and placed it on his lap before patting the empty space beside him for the feral mutant to sit on. The bed creaked annoyingly loud that made Logan’s mood to sour even more, “I’m a twelve year old kid, Logan, with dead parents and no money, where else would I be when I was ten?”

“Ya said so yerself that yer twelve, stop talking like yer fucking thirty,” Logan snapped, before pushing himself farther into the bed and for his back to reach the wall, Scott only stared at him like he’s the child out of the two of them, “Why the fuck is everything red?!” He complained again because the color started to get annoying.

“Because that’s how I see things for a while now,” Scott told him as if to point out the fucking obvious.

Logan paused,“What?”

“It’s either this or I’m blind, and obviously I’m not stupid.”

“Good to know yer growing into a more shittier person,” the older man retorted before blinking numerous times, as if that would make things less red. It took him a moment to realize what Scott just told him, a moment of blinking and cursing and complaining about how dark and red everything was, “Wait, ya see things what now?”

Scott gave him a look, “It took you this long to process that?”

Logan glared at him, “Ya know, I like ya more when yer just grabbing at my clothes.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t remember that then,” The kid replied before scooting back closer. Somehow, Logan felt like there was something deeper into that message but he found himself getting distracted from the creaking noise. There was a reasonable distance between them that Logan assumed he’s not allowed to cross, and he’s obviously not planning to, he’s still aware of Scott’s age and is not a complete asshole to ignore it. “I’m a mutant,” the kid finally answered, “Red beams come out of my eyes and I can’t turn it off, so I have to wear this red shades instead.”

Logan had nothing to say to that, it’s not like he had any problems with his mutations. So he stupidly asked about the extra bed in the room instead.

“That’s Nate’s bed,” Scott answered automatically, “He’s my roommate.” It wasn’t noticeable, but Logan saw a flicker of expression on the kid’s face, “The room’s originally not red, I remember leaving this place still in colors,” he said suddenly, “But ever since I got this beams, even my memories turned red. So I’m sorry.”

Logan hates apologies, so he didn't said anything that indicates he accepted it. Grunting, he shifted on his spot as if finding a better position, “Ya still live here?” which was obviously a stupid question because the kid just said that he already left this place.

“No,” Scott answered instead anyway, “Do you still live in Canada?”

“My life’s been quiet there.”

The next time he saw Scott, he was in the middle of a joining the Vietnam War in nineteen seventy-five. He realized, with sudden eagerness, that it had only been three years since the last visit happened.

Logan found himself in his old home with Itsu in Japan, he found Scott sitting by the door while looking at the grass beneath his feet. Thirteen, Scott was currently thirteen years old, and from the looks of it, he was just entering his puberty stage, more specifically, his growth spurt.

“Everything’s so green here.” Scott stated.

Logan snorted, “Better than seeing red.”

“Yeah,”

Years of having a guarded expression, Logan was about to see a smile from the kid after such a long time (three times longer for him, probably even more), even with just a little bit of curve. The corner of his mouth was about to tug upwards, it was there, threating to break across his face, but in that same moment, he stilled and lowered his head.

“I have to go.”

The fuck?

“Hey, I ain’t gonna see ya in a couple more years, and ya ain’t gonna see colors for a while,” Logan pointed out, his mood suddenly deflating, “The hell are excited to leave for?”

“Jack will be mad if I overslept,” he said, “I need to wake up early.”

“Who the fuck is Jack?” Logan exclaimed but he might as well asked the air because Scott was gone before he could even place a hand on his shoulder.

Son of a bitch.

Everywhere he look, he saw nothing but darkness. There was nothing here, no houses, no streets, no bed, no trees, no nothing, only the dark color of black, even the always present white blank slate was nowhere to be seen. Sitting up, Logan noticed that he could see his own body, meaning that this was it, this was the dream.

“Where are we?” he asked as soon as he felt that Scott was lying beside him, fingers intertwined over his stomach as he look up the black sky.

“I don’t know.”

Logan scoffed, “This is yer fucking—” Logan started but couldn’t seem to find the right word, he found himself flailing his hands to indicate his surroundings, “I dunno, turn?” he floundered, “How the fuck do ya not know?”

Scott didn’t move, he just kept on lying there, looking as if he’s finally taking a rest after a long time of working, “I’ve had a whole year of my life being unconscious, maybe that’s why.”

“What?”

Scott blinked, he took a moment before he pushed himself up to sit, indian sitting as he placed his elbows on his thighs. Scott looked older now, like a teenager, “My parents are dead, I can’t remember how, but I know I’m part of the accident, it did something to my head.” He explained and Logan got nothing. Scott turned and Logan could see those blue eyes finally staring back at him after a long time of avoiding eye contact, “My memories are a mess, I can’t even trust some of it,” He said, “You’re the only thing that’s constant.”

“Where are you?” Was the only thing Logan managed to say, because be hell as it may, he knew that the kid is not living a life filled with rainbows.

Scott shook his head before returning his gaze back into the dark surroundings, “You’re still years away from me, even if you try, you can’t find me.”

“Let me remind ya that yer fucking fourteen—”

“Just turned fourteen,”

“Just turned fourteen and yer acting—” A pause, “What?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I’m meeting you twice a year now.” Scott said, then he jolted and vanished. Someone forced him to wake up, and Logan fucking knows who it was.

After the Vietnam War, Logan returned to his cabin in Canada, living a life in the woods by his own and unconsciously counting down the days before he meets his soulmate again. Four years later, a few months right after Scott had told him he just turned fourteen, Logan met a girl named Kayla Silverfox, he didn’t know how quickly it happened but he later found himself living in with her, having a quiet life in the woods as he worked as lumber.

“Are you in love with her?” Scott asked once Logan had informed him about this, he didn’t sound mad, just merely curious. They were back in the park in Alaska sitting on the swing, the absence of the sandbox told Logan that the kid wasn’t lying about his jumbled memories. Everything was still in a darker shade of red.

Logan didn’t answer, because honestly he don’t even know what he feels, everything was just a blur and the next thing he knew, Kayla’s now, what? His girlfriend? He’s still trying to understand that part himself.

They were sitting by a lake nearby his house in Japan, they didn’t talk, they only sat in silence as Logan steal glances towards Scott’s way. The kid was drinking in every color of the place, and for once, Logan wondered what life had the kid been leading into. He doesn’t know, Scott never told him, sometimes he wondered what it would feel like if the kid looked at him the same way he would look at the colors.

A pause.

Oh.

In an instant, Logan found himself averting his gaze to stare at the calm moving water beneath their feet, reminding to douse himself in a gallon of holy water once he woke up.

He was on the verge of forcing himself to wake up when long slender fingers started worming over the back of his hand. It wasn’t romantic nor seductive, it felt more like a desperate search for comfort. Logan turned and look at the blank expression over the kid’s face.

“Yer not okay.” He said.

Logan received no reaction.

A lot of things happened within the year, some mistakes were made because he’s mad, Sabretooth came back with a bite and killed Kayla just for the heck of it, he accepted an offer of undergoing a fucking damn painful operation just so he can kill the motherfucker, but then he found out that Stryker is a backstabbing shit so before he could do any more damage, Logan ran away and manage to get a lovely couple involved then got brutally killed.

Logan was busy taking his revenge, he didn’t sleep until he gets what he wants.

He didn’t know how long that went.

After finding out about ‘The Isand’ with a help of a fellow mutant, Logan decided take a rest before the big day. One moment he was lying down on a mattress, then Scott was looking down on him as if waiting.

“Nice cabin,” he said.

“It ain’t nice now,” Logan replied before sitting up, Scott scooted back to give the older man a bit of space on the wooden floor. Logan noticed how tall the kid had gotten since their last meet up, in his long damn life, he knows that Scott’s the kind of person that would turn heads if he walked across the room.

The boy’s too pretty for his age.

“I take it somebody died,” Scott guessed, somehow still proving Logan that he’s smarter than him.

“And people are going to get killed because of it.”

Scott was never fond of the idea of taking someone else’s life, saying that murder was never and will never be an option. Seeing the sudden frown on his face was something that Logan was already expecting, and honestly, he doesn’t give a damn about it. The kid’s a million miles away from him, for all he knows he might not even be in the same year yet.

His thoughts were stuttered to a halt when he felt Scott lean down on him, mouth pressing against his lips, sweet and lush. Logan froze, he meant to push the kid away, means to make him stop, but Scott’s kiss was eager and demanding, and it felt so damn nice that he found himself placing one hand behind the kid’s head to support it, pulling him close as he opens his mouth. Kissing felt strange in dreams, somehow it feels real but at the same time it doesn’t.

“The fuck was that about?,” Logan asked the minute they pulled away.

Scott shrugged, “I felt like doing it,” he answered before leaning forward to kiss him again, Logan was quick to avoid his mouth this time, grabbing the kid’s wrist that somehow found itself on Logan’s shoulder.

“Yer sixteen years old.”

“What has that got to do with anything, we’re soulmates, Logan.”

“Because I’m fucking older and ya know it.”

Scott roughly pulled his hand away and leaned back, “Teenagers my age gets to drive cars, how is kissing any different? I’m old enough to know what I want and when I want it.”

“Yer sixteen,” Logan repeated through gritted teeth, “Aren’t ya supposed to be the smarter one here?” When the kid didn’t answer, Logan noticed how everything about him was stiff, eyes suddenly looking at the door as if it was suddenly interesting, “Where are ya right now?”

“I don’t know.”

The older man scoffed, “Bullshit, yer telling me—”

“I don’t know, Logan,” Scott repeated firmly and it made the feral mutant to shut up, “Somebody took me and I don’t know where I am. I can’t see anything.” He said before looking down on the wooden floor.

That feeling of knowing that you can help but couldn’t do a damn thing about it had hit Logan hard, he found himself gripping his hands into fists. He wanted to help, to do something, but he knew he can’t.

“I do plan on getting out soon, I just don’t know when.”

And maybe destiny had a fucked up way of saying that you have someone so compatible for you that you won’t find it hard to fall in love, too bad that person is years away and would probably die first before you meet him even if you can fucking live a long damn life. But guess life can be nice sometimes so you get to see him in dreams instead.

Fucking vivid dreams that you get once in after many long damn years.

“We’ll see each other soon,” Logan found himself saying, “Once yer older and out of there, just you wait.”

“I know.”

They both know they were lying.

Turns out Kayla is fucking alive and had been spying on him for god knows how long. Tear faced, telling him about her sister who was also trapped in this god awful place along with other mutants in Stryker’s growing collection. Logan can barely stand to look at her. Had he loved her? Maybe never, maybe he thought he did, he wasn’t sure even before. There’s no way of knowing what was real anymore, especially from her, everything she do would do nothing but cloud him with doubt.

After finding out that Stryker ain’t going to let go of her sister, nor give Victor the promised adamantium bonding. Logan liked to watch as all hell broke loose.

He found many cages filled with mutants of every description, children and adults alike treated like they’re nothing but zoo animals. Logan breaks each and every last cage open with a one long swipe with his new, stronger, and much dangerous claws. He saw Kayla’s sister as the two got finally reunited, tears of joy tainting their faces when he noticed a familiar brunette coming out of his cage, metal covering his eyes like a blindfold. Craning his neck, he tried to get a clearer view of the person but with all of the mutants getting in the way, he wasn’t able to pinpoint who he was.

Then Wade showed up, extending a worryingly familiar blade through he skin.

“Kayla, get these kids out of here. Find another way out.”

“Logan, what about you?”

Despite knowing about her mutation, Logan wants to be close to her, but they’ve lost something they can’t ever get back, “Don’t worry about me. I’m the best there is at what I do.”

They were already moving, Logan turned around to face Wade, extending his claws while hearing numerous footsteps running away from the area, following Kyla as they search a way out.

“Scott what are you doing?! Come on!” One of the many prisoner yelled.

Logan looked back because he just heard Scott’s name, Logan looked back because Scott was here, with him, in the Island. He turned and saw that familiar face looking back at him, eyes binded by a thick metal as he gets dragged farther and farther away from him. His face searching even though he couldn’t see anything.

“Somebody took me and I don’t know where I am. I can’t see anything.”

Maybe destiny is nothing but a bag full of shits.

He wakes up with a killer headache, he can smell smoke, dust, and blood around him. He realized that he doesn’t know where he is, or who he was, his entire life forgotten and erased. He doesn’t even know what his own damn name is.

Dog tags were hanging around his neck, it says Logan while the other side says Wolverine

Logan decided that he likes the sound of that.

Years later and he still doesn’t know who he was, but he sure as hell know what he is now. Sometimes he had dreams about his past, useless dreams that would wake him up in the middle of the night drench in sweat. He never tried to sleep since then, and maybe it’s because of his healing factor that he managed to be awake most of his ten fucking years on the road.

Until he met a teenager named Rogue, whatever that name is, who seem to be a mutant like him. Honestly he’s not some sort of babysitter to take care of children, but he must’ve gone soft over the years for him to stop the car and let the kid in.

Logan remembered talking about seatbelts, and then the next thing he knew he had hit something so he flew off his car through the front window, then some ape shit wannabe smashed a fucking tree trunk that sent him flying, again, over the hood of his car. That’s twice in row. Logan’s pretty sure this kid got some bad luck following her.

He didn’t know what occurred after that, he was unconscious to find out what the hell happened to his moving house. It doesn’t matter if the place looks fancy or damn expensive, but he doesn’t like waking up into strange places that looked more like a hospital than a hotel.

His instinct told him to run the moment he cracked an eye open, only that he can’t because there’s a guy sitting on a visitor's chair. He was wearing this funky looking shades that covers thirty percent of his face, his arms crossed over his chest and an invisible pole must’ve been tied on his back because he sits straighter than any damn ruler.

“Logan,” He called that made the older man’s eyebrow to furrow, “I see you’re finally awake.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Was the first thing he said.