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Logan had woken up in more than his fair share of weird places in his life. It came with living as long as he did. But this... this wasn't what he had expected. He'd been drowning, or burning. And now he was in a bed - a real, comfortable bed. A bed that felt solid, and wasn't just a trick. He stumbled to his feet, because he had to find out what was going on, because his heart was racing. Because he knew the goal. He knew the plan. And somehow he was alive.
He walked down corridors that he remembered, but which had never looked like this. He saw burn marks on the wood - a new child's powers, they'd be repaired soon. Storm, teaching. Beast, blue and unashamed, Mystique beside him. The air was fresh, clean, no smoke or poison or anger here. No sharp stink of fear. He walked on. Kitty. Colossus. Bobby. Rogue. Alive. All of them, alive. All those who were dead were standing here alive, and safe, and it felt right.
"Logan?" A woman's voice, and he turned around, and she was there, beautiful as he remembered, her dark red hair hanging around her face, her eyes sparkling. Alive. "Logan, are you okay?"
"Jean... you're here." He could feel his knees go weak, the way they always did with her, and she smiled at him.
"Where else would I be?" Jean asked, and it was almost a joke, almost a sign she understood, and he reached towards her, only to have his wrist grabbed by Summers. He frowned a little, sneering at him. Because it was just typical that the Boy Scout was in the way now, as well. He couldn't have lucked out into a world where he had died or something. A moment after he thought it, he pushed that thought away - that was a thought for the old world, not this new one that was somehow full of impossible hope.
"Guess some things never change." Overall though, he'd take Summers if it meant that Jean was alive. If it meant the kids were alive, if they had a chance. "It's good to see you, Scott." He could see the surprise on Scott's face, but he didn't mind it, because they were alive. And he needed to find out what was going on.
Logan stalked past him, needing to find out who was in charge. He felt Jean's thoughts brush his, hot as flame, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling, because he was here. Somehow, ridiculously, they had won. He found Xavier, and spoke to him. The words didn’t feel real, even when backed up by projected memories. He kept thinking about all those who were alive. Eventually, he was dismissed, and drifted back to his room, because he'd been excused from teaching for the day.
He could barely believe that. He was a teacher. He was helping young mutants to go about their lives - and he was helping them learn, letting them live rather than fight. They'd won. He settled on his bed, and looked around the room, then got back on his feet, examining what he had. He didn’t feel safe, and it didn’t feel real, but he thought that in time it might begin to. That thought made him smile, because maybe now they were safe.
That joy carried him through the first few days, as he tried to adjust. Mutants he'd known, mutants he'd lost, were here. And they all knew him. He didn't know them - he knew a version of them, and deep down they knew a version of him but it wasn't... it wasn't the same, and he felt as though he was trying to live two lives. He wasn't who they saw, but he wasn't not that either.
He woke up one night, screaming, his mattress shredded by his claws, and he was only held down by the power of Jean's telekinesis. She stood in front of him, gazing at him curiously. "If I let you go, are you going to put the claws away?"
He nodded, and she released him, and he did so, looking around. "Shit. Sorry."
"You saw the world burn," she murmured, her voice gentle. "I saw glimpses of it, in your thoughts, your nightmare was loud. Don't blame yourself for waking up screaming. Anyone would, if they'd seen what you had."
He didn't know what to say to that. It was the middle of the night and his bed was ruined. He just shrugged, and headed down to the kitchen to get a beer.
Summers was there. He'd expected a reprimand for needing a drink, a reminder that it was a school. Instead, Summers walked over to the fridge and retrieved a beer, handed it over, and didn't wince when Logan used a claw to take off the lid. He took it, checked that the beer wasn't zero alcohol, and took a gulp of it. Summers nodded at him.
"I don't know exactly what happened," Summers said. "But I've picked up some of it. You went through hell for us. Thank you."
"You said hell," Logan answered, immediately, making Summers snort and shake his head. Logan downed the beer and nodded, watching Summers closely. Summers had picked out a beer for himself, and Logan gestured for it. He cut off the top, took a swig, and then handed it back to Summers. Summers pulled a face, but drank anyway. They sat in silence for a while, the night still and companionable, before Summers got up and walked away. It was only once he was gone that it occurred to Logan that Summers had already been awake in the middle of the night.
He started to watch Cyclops. He wanted to know what was going on. His mind was used to trying to survive in a world on fire, and now he needed something to do, to keep his thoughts busy, to stop the fear and memories from devouring him. He rode his bike. He practiced fighting, using the Danger Room and trying to recreate battles that he had lost. And he watched Cyclops.
Summers had always been kind of a prick. Uptight, professional in the worst way. He had always put Logan's teeth on edge, and Logan had always hated him, and he'd always been pretty sure that hatred was mutual. But it was different now. Summers didn't like him, exactly. Summers had Jean, and Logan wanted Jean. But it wasn't... it didn't matter. Not in this world. Because they'd survived, somehow. There were no giant robots coming to tear them apart. There were no nightmares stalking through the halls. Logan could let himself stare at a handsome man, and if Summers got mad then the worst he could do was blast him with his ‘laser’ eyes.
That thought made Logan smirk, and he looked at Summers, expecting a scowl. Instead, Summers smiled at him, his expression unusually bright, and Logan let himself look for a moment before he lit his cigarette. He told himself those looks meant nothing. He was just looking, just interested. Just enjoying the visual. The fact he liked the visual more when Summers smiled didn't matter, because Summers was a bastard.
Summers had been a bastard. There was something lighter about him here, in this world where he got to be who he wanted to be, where he didn't have to be afraid. Or maybe Logan felt lighter as well, this time around.
A month after waking up, he came back from a ride to find Jean waiting for him. She was hovering in the garage, in a way that would have frightened him in the old world, but just showed she was comfortable in the new. She walked down from the air, and landed in front of him, reaching out to rest her hands on his shoulders.
"You should talk to him."
"Who?"
She raised an eyebrow, looked at him. "I'm a telepath, you realise."
"I..." He swallowed. He wasn't sure if he should apologise for flirting with her fiancé, or flirting with her. She leaned in, and brushed her lips against his cheek.
"I can share," she murmured, and he stared at her wide-eyed.
"This wasn't... you and me… and him… we weren't a thing, before," he tried to explain, because he didn't want to steal Scott, or make her feel like she had to do something she didn't want to. She looked at him, and he felt her mind brush his.
"I know. We weren't a thing here either. You always were at each other's throats, but you aren't now. Maybe this is something good." With that, she rose into the air again, and floated back towards the main house. "He's in the Danger Room. He’d like to see you."
That was that. Permission, not anger or jealousy. Scott - Summers was in the Danger Room. Logan walked that way. He thought about what had happened since he'd come here. How Scott had been approachable. Kind. How he'd managed to hold his tongue, aside from slight sniping which left Logan grinning. Summers was softer, somehow, in this world. Less angry, less spoiling for a fight. He was a hero, still, but it was less abrasive. Summers had got a second chance, and Logan was going to take the chance for himself as well.
He knocked on the door of the Danger Room, and entered the code to power down the simulation, because he didn't actually want to get hit in the face by Cyclops's beam of energy. He needn't have worried. The door opened automatically, and he found Summers sitting on the floor, staring ahead, some broken plates scattered around him. Logan paused for a moment, wondering if he should ask, and pushing that aside. Summers would say if he wanted to, and if he didn’t then Logan wasn’t gonna push. He didn't look like the perfectly in control leader at the moment. He seemed better for it. He looked up, and got to his feet.
"I'll clean up the mess," Summers muttered, but he walked over to Logan. "Jean send you?"
"How'd you guess?"
"She meddles too much for her own good." Summers answered, stretching, his gaze not moving from Logan. "Look, I don't know what she told you but-"
"She said she can share you," Logan answered, blunt. “Me and her. If you’d want it.” He'd half-expected Scott to hit him for that. Instead, Scott frowned. Logan wished he could see his eyes.
"Oh."
"And yeah, if she wants to share, sounds good to me." He shrugged his shoulders, tried to sound casual about it. Summers hesitated, and seemed to be struggling to decide, but then he nodded and walked forwards, reaching out for Logan's hands, and the gesture was innocent and it made Logan's heart ache. But if Summers wanted this... he wanted it too. Summers was fucked up in this world, he hurt and he tried to hide it, could raise his voice a little loud in class, but he’d always apologise, always pretend he wasn’t tired. His mask wasn't perfect, and Logan found that beautiful. Logan wanted this Summers - not the Scott he'd known before, but this man, in front of him who wanted to care for everyone and took too much strain on his shoulders and defended people because it was right, not because it was easy.
Summers deserved someone to stand with him. He had Jean. Logan thought he deserved someone else as well, and he wanted to be that person. He leaned up, stretching to kiss Scott.
Scott's lips were surprisingly soft against his own, and his grip on his leather jacket was surprisingly hard. It felt real. Like there was something he had been waiting for, ever since he had come to this time, and finally it was falling into place. He pulled back after a moment, and gazed at Scott, and Scott was smiling. Logan felt hope that somehow, this time, things were going to go right.