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The nightmares never really stopped.
They're present almost every time Logan sleeps. The intensity ranges, but it's a nightmare every time, nonetheless.
It's usually the same bullshit. Memories repeating over and over again, people he let die, people he killed, people who aren't here anymore, blood, rage, pain and tears.
Sometimes, the dreams are different. He dreams of a world where everything is alright, where everyone's healthy and alive, dreams of a happy ending. And these dreams are, in fact, the worst ones.
He dreams of Jean, dressed in white, angel like. She's smiling at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she calls out his name. Dreams of lighthearted bickering with Scott, and Storm rolling her eyes at them, arms crossed, affectionate grin plastered across her face. Dreams of teasing Rogue for things a father would tease a daughter for. Long and comforting conversations with Charles and Hank.
In these dreams, once his heart's at place, he realises that he's dreaming. The dreams go on for too long, he can't wake up, he drives himself crazy in his own head. He knows none of it is real, that they're all gone and dead and soon he starts lashing out. Everyone around him is confused, worried, they ask if he's alright, they try to comfort him, calm him. They're not real. It's too much. Everyone is speaking at the same time and Logan feels sick.
He wakes up to the sound of all their voices screaming out his name.
He's tried many things in hopes that they would ease his nightly terrors, but living in a body that constantly heals itself is more of a nightmare in itself sometimes, especially in this case. He could drink a whole liquor store if he wanted to, but his dreams would only turn more catastrophic and he wouldn't be able to wake up for what feels like an eternity. Reliving everything in a constant loop. And drugs aren't really his thing, but he has tried.
Tiring his body out with physical activity, violence, killing and sex only dulls the nightmares by little, never prevents them. Sometimes makes them worse as he just helplessly, wearily, regards everything happening in front of him.
It has been four months since he moved into the tiny apartment with Wade and Althea. And ever since, he's refused to sleep in the same bed as Wade, no matter how much the other man insisted on it. Logan preferred the couch, always making lame excuses as to why he doesn't want to share a bed, until he snapped and told Wade to drop it.
It really hasn't got much to do with sharing a bed. Sure, Logan would prefer his own personal space, and Wade would most definitely be a pain in the ass, making perverted jokes, trying to cuddle him on purpose or in his sleep, never shutting up as if he's a teenage girl at a sleepover. No, it's got more to do with the way Logan sleeps, specifically the way the nightmares affect Logan's sleeping behaviors. Logan knows that he won't cause long-term damage if he woke from a nightmare with his claws deep inside Wade, but it would still bring him pain and it would be messy. Messy not only because they'd have to change sheets all the time due to the blood, but because he would be disturbing Wade's sleep. And he can't stand Wade's reactions to the nightmares. Doesn't want to be pitied or treated like a wet, shaking, dog tossed away at the corner of some dark alleyway. So, he sleeps on the living room couch.
The first month, the nightmares seemed kind of dull. Maybe it was the intense change of scenery, all the new people around him, constant missions with Wade and Wade absorbing every part of his waking life. Yet, the second he started feeling the tiniest bit comfortable in this new life, in the new routine him and his roommates have made, the nightmares came back in full glow and every night they seemed to get worse.
He'd dream of everyone. Everyone telling him he didn't deserve to live comfortably after what he did. Nightmares of bloody, teary eyed, faces telling him he'll never escape the past. Jean speaking of things he knows she'd never say. Hurtful things.
Every night, before bed, he'd lay out towels on the couch underneath him. It became a must, and it was a bitch washing them every day. He'd soak through all of his clothes, his hair would drip with sweat. And after waking, the night continued on like this: he'd go to the kitchen cabinet, pull out a bottle of cheap liquor and stand next to an open window until the sun rose.
He felt bad as is. Constantly doing laundry isn't cheap, not talking about it ain't any cheaper. And the universe loves putting him in difficult situations so, the nightmares intensified and he started screaming himself awake, waking Wade up, scaring the dog. Althea on the other hand, thank god, was a deeper sleeper. Slept through the gut wrenching wails or ignored them, she couldn't be assed, and fell back to sleep after it woke her. Wade, the fucking jackass, always got up to check on Logan. And honestly, Logan just wanted to be left alone, wished Wade could ignore him and pretend like nothing ever happens. But Logan was, is, also a liar.
The first time Logan woke up screaming, Wade bolted, head first, out of his room. His eyes still blurry from sleep, he spotted Logan sitting up on the couch like he had a stick up his ass, with his claws out, eyes frantically searching the room. His breaths were shallow, quick and loud, Wade didn't know what the fuck had happened.
"What the fuck happened??!"
Logan turned to him, eyes wide. A silence fell upon them as they just stared at each other.
"Fuck." Wade rubbed at his eyes, "Nightmares?" he slowly approached Logan and stood at the coffee table near the couch, staring at him while Logan sat still with his claws still out. He crossed his arms, a worried look on his face.
"You really having them every night?"
Logan blinked, retreated his claws, looked away from Wade and grunted.
"I'm taking that as a yes. Jeez, Wolvie, I didn't know it was that bad. I mean, I knew you had them, didn't really think you were washing the towels because you were busting a thousand nuts into them every night-"
"Shut up."
Wades eyebrows(or, the muscles where his eyebrows would be if he had any) furrowed, "What?"
"Just," Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't want to fuckin' talk about it. Just go back to bed, Wade." he murmured as he got up from the couch and passed Wade on his way to the kitchen.
"But-"
"Fucking please." Logan turned around to stare him down, the right side of Wade's face painted by the colors of the street lamps that were coming in through the window, otherwise he was barely visible in the dark room. "It's tiring as it is on it's own and I don't need your fuckin' pity and I sure as hell don't need you talking my ear off at ass o'clock in the night. Just go the fuck back to sleep."
Wade's face did a weird thing, he looked almost hurt, but he didn't say anything, which was kind of a shocker, and he just went to his room and shut the door softly.
Logan's a fucking asshole, he knows it. No matter how much Wade jumps his nerves daily or how much he pisses him off, he's still done more than enough for Logan. He's given him a roof over his head, people who could be friends, he's there for him in his unusual and weird ways. No matter how big of a dick Wade is, Logan Howlett might be the biggest dick in the world. He's digging his own grave at this point, just making shit worse.
He opened the living room window and downed a cheap whiskey bottle before the sun rose.
The second time the sound of his own screeching voice woke him from the nightmares, Wade didn't come out of his room, but Logan could hear him tossing around in his sheets. Logan just sat in bed(or rather, couch)and listened to him for a few minutes, until he couldn't hear any more movement.
The third time, however, while Logan's standing at the window and nursing his bottle of alcohol, his ears perked up as Wade quietly left his room. Logan listened to him drink a glass of water at the kitchen sink and he could tell Wade was sparing a few glances his way, but Logan didn't look back and Wade retreated back to his room. And for the next month, whenever Logan woke him with his screams, Wade kept doing just that.
After the seventh wake up scream, Wade started doing something different.
Logan would scream, sit up in bed, catch his breath, take off his shirt and wipe the sweat from his face and neck with it, he'd toss the shirt on the floor, go to the liquor cabinet and then to the open window. It became routine. Two months in, after the seventh scream, Wade filled his glass of water in the sink, went to stand next to Logan at the window and slowly drank his water in silence. When the glass was drained, he'd ask, not looking Logan's way but straight out the window, "You okay?" Logan only hummed, Wade nodded his head, turned around and went back to his room.
He now does this every time Logan wakes him up.
Firstly, he waits for Logan to clear his head a bit, exits his room when Logan's standing at the window. He sometimes pats him on the shoulder as he leaves, only looks at him as he's filling up his glass with water, sometimes stays a bit longer. It's comforting, of course it fucking is, and Logan hates to admit it. It doesn't make the nightmares better, but it does it's job for easing down the aftermath.
Logan even starts expecting Wade's arrival, nervously waiting when it takes him too long to come and Logan's down half a bottle. Sometimes he offers Wade a drink, tilting the bottle towards him, but the other man only shakes his head.
Their daily life is good, almost domestic. Logan usually starts up breakfast as Wade takes Mary out for her morning piss, Althea makes smalltalk with him as he sets the table. They bicker over breakfast, Althea constantly reminding Wade that she wishes she were deaf and Logan never failing to agree with her. The afternoons are usually spent watching TV with Althea as Wade works some low paying job, both he and Althea enjoying the hours of silence they have to themselves.
Logan smells him every time before he walks through the door with a, "Honeys, im home!".
And the apartment is met with incredibly long and loud sentences bouncing off the walls at the speed of light.
Most nights, the two of them go out on some mission the TVA gives them and if not, they go and seek out danger themselves and take care of it. Or they go for some mercenary business. If none of those activities are on the plate, they kill time at a bar.
Some of their friends surprisingly visit very often. Peter comes over unannounced, at least not announced to Logan, and he and Wade have these weird conversations Logan doesn't even want to get into, but it's very obvious the two are best friends. Laura sometimes comes in the afternoon and they go out to the park with the dog. Every so often, her presence and the looks she gives him feel like too much. He wasn't made for this, nor is he the Logan that was her savior, nor her father. Despite it, Laura takes up a big place in his heart, and it scares the shit out of him. He loves the kid too much already, won't let himself see her as his kid.
Once every one or two weeks, they have all of their friends come over. Wade and him fight and bicker around the kitchen for about two hours, before guests arrive, as they clean up and make dinner. They've grown used to one another, and the fights and bickering turn more lighthearted, sometimes they're on the edge of endearing but Wade always plays it off as Logan grunts about it.
On the nights after bad dreams have taken a trip to Logan's head, when him and Wade stand at the open window looking down at the quiet streets, it's like they're two different people. Logan feels vulnerable at these times, without even saying anything, and Wade understands and fullfils Logan's wish to not speak and prode at him. It took time for Logan to get used to the quiet Wade. First he thought it was weird, unusual, it kind of freaked him out, but one night, three months in, his heart skipped a beat when he realised how big of a thing this is, coming from Wade. From the guy who never shuts up. It's like Wade dropped his mask every night for him because Logan would, unwillingly, do the same thing first. He misses him when he goes. Misses the feeling of their shoulders pressed together after they've leaned into one another. Some days, Logan thanks the universe Wade works in the afternoon. Other days, he pisses himself off because he wishes Wade didn't have to go to work.
He tells himself he just misses the company, doesn't like being alone.
He knows he's stepping into dangerous territory. That creating close relationships will only backfire for him and he can't stand the thought of losing anyone again. So sometimes, in the post nightmare haze, he thinks about running away. He thinks it would be best for everyone, if he wasn't there. But what if they need him? What if something happens and he's not there? What if he doesn't reach them in time?
It's a constant war inside his head, and no fucking wonder the nightmares don't stop. He imagines himself kicking at a ball and chain attached to his ankle.
Four months and two days have passed since he moved into the place he's learned to call home. But only to himself, never out loud.
Four months and two days passed, and a different dream occurs. A different dream occurs after years, decades, of the same ones.
It's nothing like the other nightmares, because it's different people this time, a different person. Someone who's supposed to be indestructible like him, alive and breathing.
Logan knows Wade is in the same boat as him, that he can't die no matter how much he tries or wishes to. He know this, and yet he dreams of the unrealistic.
Wade's too far away, but close enough for Logan to see his life draining from his face. There's blood everywhere, Wade's on his knees trying to hold himself up with his hands, he's terrifyingly quiet, trying to push words out of his mouth. He looks like death himself.
Logan feels like he's running in place. He can't reach him, he can't fucking reach him no matter how fast he runs. He wails and hollers, calling out Wade's name as he runs towards him. Wade looks up at him and smiles, lips shaking, before he drops on the floor lifelessly. Logan's too late, again.
He doesn't scream himself awake. He wakes up and almost jumps out of the sheets, trips over the coffee table as he makes his way to Wade's room. He slams the door open and Wade abruptly sits up, awakened by the loud sound.
Logan's pretty sure he blacked out for a few seconds after he burst through the door, because now he has one knee on Wade's bed as the other leg hangs loosely off the side and he's got a death grip on Wade's shoulders. "Hey, hey, its fine, you're fine. Calm down, hey, Logan. Logan," Wade's fingers are tightly wrapped around Logan's forearms and he's desperately searching his eyes.
Logan realises he's been quietly calling out Wade's name for god knows how long and he clicks his jaw shut. His arms fall loosely off of Wade's shoulders, one into the man's lap and the other next to it. He's trying to remember how to breathe.
"There he is." Wade smiles, "Hey, you okay?"
Logan stares at him in disbelief, ashamed of his actions, and most of all, terrified.
"Honey badger? Peanut? Logan, hey," Wade raises his hand and runs it softly up and down Logan's tricep. "It's me, I'm here, you're totally alright. But you're kinda really freaking me out. Say something?" Wade's smile turns tight-lipped and Logan clenches his jaw.
He breathes hard through his nose, slightly shakes his head, "I just, I just needed to check that you're, I don't, fuck. I don't fuckin' know. Alive? It's fuckin' stupid." he groans, "You," Logan stops for two seconds, eyebrows furrowing, he shakes his head harder in disbelief, "in my dream, you,"
"Hey, hey, hey, slow down, I'm here, I'm fine. It was just a nightmare, yeah?" Wade slides his hand up Logan's shoulder and neck and runs it through his hair. "And I'm flattered, babe, but me?" he points at himself, "Invincible. Remember? Like a cockroach, but better, and with bigger balls."
Logan scoffs, shuts his eyes and let's his head drop, leaning into Wade's touch.
"I know, shit, I fuckin' know. But it was different this time, it's never you. Never been you. It's usually every-fucking-body else, but not you. Not someone who's still alive."
Wade's silent for a moment, before, "Hey, okay, let's get you to bed you big catdog." He scoots over to one side of the bed and lies down, pulling on Logan's arm for him to follow suit. "And don't give me any of that 'I refuse to be close to another human being because I'm afraid I'll hurt them' crap. You're not going to hurt me, and honestly, I really don't mind even if you do, sugar. So stop being stubborn and get in bed already."
Logan stays still for a second, then two, then three, and gives in. He pulls the covers away and lays down on his side, facing Wade.
Wade grins.
"Swear I'll take you out to dinner next time before I get you in my bed. This isn't very much gentleman of me. My apologies."
Logan sneers, says nothing, doesn't know what the fuck to say.
"Oh, right, I'll stop talking your cute little ears off. My apologies, once again."
Logan shakes his head, " 's fine." and he shuts up again upon hearing how rough his voice sounds. Before he can dwell on it, Wade speaks
"Mistake numero uno. Allowing me to talk when I was being so so good at respecting your boundaries." Wade sighs dramatically. He looks at Logan for a second longer before he continues speaking. "I'm not going to force you to tell me what you dream of, I know it's seriously none of my business. But if you want to talk, I'll listen. I pinky promise I'm just as good at listening as I am at talking. So, if you wanna..."
This was a long time coming, and he probably should have talked earlier. It's not that he doesn't trust Wade, or fails to believe he'd understand, he's just never told anyone anything, thinking that's the only thing he can spare them of, after everything.
Logan clenched his jaw as he swallowed, he averted his eyes and sighed,
"I still see them. All of them. I see them before I go to sleep, I see them when I sleep, after I wake up. I think of them constantly, I see them in everything I see or do myself." He takes a frustrating breath, "And, it's not always bad. Sometimes it's good. Nice memories and made up ones, fantasies, of what could've been. Those are even worse. Leave me with an empty fuckin' void in my chest that I can't fill no matter what.
For so long, I imagined and dreamt of Jean so often that I started hallucinating her. It was always unrealistic, she was always angel like, in all white, not a worryline on her face. She'd call for me, tell me to come join her, to join them. And I wanted to, fuck, I really wanted to. Tried so fuckin' hard too, and I couldn't. Maybe, in the end, that's my punishment. For letting happen what has happened, and for lettin' it drive me insane and turn me into a horrible fucking person, a monster, an animal." He bites at his tongue, works his jaw. "It was different, this time. It was you. And I know how unrealistic it is for you to die, but my mind was set on panic mode and I couldn't let the same thing happen again. But it did."
Logan looks up at Wade for a split second, but looks away almost immediately, after he sees the look in his eyes. "I'm fucked up, Wade. And I don't think that's ever going to change. I'm beyond help, and frankly, I don't want it. I'm thankful that you brought me here, I am, but I can't help feeling that I'm fucking everything up, or that I will, and that it'll be something beyond fixing."
"Okay," Wade speaks after a moment of silence. "I get it, I mean, as much as I can, I do." He takes a deep breath, "Logan, I'm not much of a better man than you. I've done shit that's far from unforgivable, and I hate myself for it. But we're different in the way we choose to deal with it. I surpress it, poke fun at it, make a fool out of myself, but I sort of accepted it. I accepted it and left it in the past." He places a hand on Logan's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "What we've done can't be undone, but we can sure as hell try and make other, active, things better. Both me and you, buddy." he laughs shortly, shaking his head into his pillow. "You're not an animal, Logan. You feel way too much, your heart's way too full yet shattered for it to be that of an animals. You're more human than those who have normal bones and no healing factor."
Wade absentmindedly draws circles with his finger on Logan's shoulder.
"The people you've lost, they're never going to leave you. They'll always be there, in the back of your mind. But it's good, in a way. They're people you loved, people you still love. And you need to be who they know you are, deep down inside that disgustingly huge heart, that's hiding behind the greatest pair of tits I've seen in my whole entire life."
Logan laughs a short laugh, lip quirking up. "Never expected to hear a speech like that from you."
"Oh baby, don't let my perfectly pepperonied skin, charming demeanour and huge mouth deceive you. I've lived through a lot of shit, saw even more shit, was at fault for a huge part of that shit. I know."
"Thank you," Wade's smile turns crooked at Logan's words. "I mean it, Wade. Thank you. And I'm sorry. For being a dick, and for everything that's happened to you."
"Hey, this isn't about me. But, I'm a sucker for heart to heart moments so, thank you, too, Wolvie."
Wade moves his hand to Logan's hair, scratches behind his ear and Logan's hum vibrates in his throat, making a sound that's dangerously close to a purr.
" 'M glad you came to find me, that day. I still have fuckin' problems with accepting where it brought me, but I'm grateful."
Wade scoffs, "Don't go all softy on me, I'm not used to it coming from you, it's so out of character." he smiles, teeth peeking out behind lips "But you're stuck with me, now. Sorry, sweetums. I think it was my destiny to find you, for both of us scum to find each other. And to help each other not be such scum anymore. It might be a slow burn, but it's sure as hell going to be a happy ending." Wade slides his hand down, resting it on the side of Logan's neck, his thumb on his jaw. "And now you're, unfortunately, obligated to share this bed with me every night. It's a win win situation for the both of us. For you, because of the nightmares. I'll be your knight in shining armor and you're very welcome to hold onto me for comfort, or penetrate me with those claws of yours. Either is fine. And it's a win for me, because I get a hairy beefcake to keep my touch starved body warm at night with a tight embrace." Wade sighs dreamily, blinking rapidly, fluttering his lack of eyelashes. "Just like in my dreams. Although, my dreams are waaay different than yours, if you're picking up what I'm putting down." He winks and Logan rolls his eyes.
"You're really fuckin' insufferable, you know that, right?" Logan says as a smile on his face betrays him and makes the words come out as endearing.
"Well, you don't seem that opposed to the cuddling and snuggling." Wade's face overtakes an ugly grin and he brushes his thumb against Logan's jawline.
Logan slightly pushes himself up with his elbow and looms over Wade, who's hand falls from his neck and holds itself between the bed and Logan's chest, palm pressed to his heart. "No, on the condition that you don't burst my eardrums with complaints 'bout washin' bloody sheets and buyin' new ones all the time."
"Honey, you know how much I looove to complain. I truly can't help myself, darlin'." Wade breaks out a very bad, cowboy accent, before returning to his normal voice, "And I hope we won't be washing and buying new sheets only because of the blood-"
Logan leans down and kisses him. It's only a light brush of lips, and it's over before it even happened. He lies back down, turns his back to Wade and murmurs, "In your dreams, bub."
Once Wade's brain clicks back into place, he practically throws himself at Logan's back, wrapping a tight arm around his torso as he grumbles something incomprehensible into Logan's hair.
Logan listens as Wade's heartbeat and breathing smooth out, and after so long, manages to fall back asleep after a nightmare that was just that, a nightmare.
Maybe, he still has a chance and maybe he'll take it. Maybe, this time, he'll keep the people he loves safe. And maybe, with Wade wrapped around his back, the nightmares will become a thing of the past.