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“We have a problem.”
Logan sighed and closed his eyes, back turned to the doorway that Wade had crashed his way through. He had been in the middle of changing - at least he had pants on still - so his chest was bare as he moved to face his roommate. Although he couldn’t see Wade’s eyes through his mask, it was obvious in the way that his head tilted down that he was staring at his abs.
“We don’t have anything,” Logan grumbled, throwing a clean-ish shirt over his head, “stop trying to rope me into your bullshit, I’m retired.”
“Wha- come on! Friends are supposed to be there for each other, and all that shit!” Wade said, throwing his hands in the air.
Logan rolled his eyes and pushed his way past Wade, shuffling to the kitchen to throw on a coffee pot. “We’re not friends.”
“Of course we are, Wolvie! We worked it out on the remix and everything!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Wade had followed him into their cramped apartment kitchen, leaning against the counter next to him and tilting his head as if he were a damn puppy. “You don’t know what-? Jesus Christ, get with the times, grandpa. You’re immortal, you have no excuse for not keeping up with pop culture.”
“What can I do to make you stop fucking talking?” Suddenly the smell of blood overwhelmed his senses. “...Are you fucking bleeding?”
The mercenary draped himself even further across the countertop. “Well, if you would let me finish, shmoopy, you might know the answer to that!”
Grunting, Logan spun and took a good look at Wade to see where the damage was. He spotted it - a gaping bullet hole in his roommate’s shoulder. He reached out to inspect it, but as soon as he touched the spot, Wade yanked his arm out of reach.
“Ow, Jesus fucking fuck!” He yelped. “You don’t just go around touching another guy’s hole without permission, Wolvie!”
“Shut up and let me see,” Logan said, quickly gripping Wade by the elbow before he could slip away again, “why the fuck aren’t you regenerating?”
“I don’t fucking know! Maybe my shoulder is my Achilles’ heel.”
Logan glared at him incredulously. “You are so goddamn stupid, it’s astounding.”
“Well, you come up with a better reason, then, asshole!”
One closer look confirmed his suspicions. “It’s not healing because the bullet is still in there, dipshit.”
Wade briefly glanced over his shoulder, where there was no exit wound in sight. “Huh. Well, would you look at that?”
He didn’t bother gracing the other with a response, instead dragging the man to the bathroom and shoving him against the sink. He patted the porcelain. “Up.”
“Oh my god, is it finally happening? Are we about to-?”
“Don’t. Finish that.” Logan cut him off in a sharp tone, rolling his eyes when Wade’s only response was to mime zipping his lips shut. He left the bathroom to go retrieve the emergency aid kit that was collecting dust in their closet, but not before giving Wade a stern warning to stay. When he got back, the mercenary was thankfully still in the same position, the only difference being the fact that his mask was now off.
Wade’s eyes widened almost comically when he saw what Logan was carrying, and he scooted backwards until his back was fully pressed up against the glass of the mirror behind him. “Oh, no, no no. You are not playing nurse on me! Unless, of course, you’re going to wear a sexy costume to go with it.”
Logan ignored him, opening up the kit and taking out a pair of tweezers. Got to retrieve that bullet somehow.
“I never thought I’d say this, but do not stick that thing in me, I swear to god.”
“You’ll be fine. You’ve had worse.”
“Papa?”
Logan immediately gentled at the sound of Laura’s voice. After she had somehow survived that shit show in the Void - she was a resilient kid - she moved in with them. Taking over the role of father wasn’t easy, but he had to admit, it did come quite naturally to him. Wade had called him a ‘girl dad’, claiming he had gotten the phrase from something called Tik-Tok, but Logan really didn’t care enough to try to unravel whatever that meant.
He did, albeit begrudgingly, have Wade to thank for his relationship with Laura. Wade had been the one to invite her to move in with them, never pressuring her, but always leaving the option open. Wade had been the one to tell him to get his head out of his ass and accept who he was and what he meant to Laura. And while he cracked awful ‘Dilf’ jokes and others of that sort, Wade had been the one to make him feel comfortable with their fucked-up family unit. An old, blind lady, a teenage girl with violent, murderous tendencies, a 200 year old mutant with even violenter, more murderous tendencies, whatever the hell Wade was, and the ugliest dog across the multiverse. Against the world.
He turned to the doorway where the voice had come from, and found Laura leaning against the doorframe with a confused look on her face. Her eyes were foggy with sleep, and Logan winced as he remembered that it had to be pretty early in the morning.
He quieted his voice a bit. “Sorry, did we wake you up?”
She shrugged, eyes trained on Wade, who gleefully waved his fingers at her in greeting.
“Did you just get back? Why were you out so late?” Laura questioned, and for some strange reason, Logan could feel Wade tense up ever-so-slightly under his grip in response.
The mercenary’s voice offered no evidence of any anxiety, though, just as happy-go-lucky as always. “Well, you know what they say, my sweet little murder-child. No rest for the wicked, and all that jazz. Now, would you do me a favor and tell your dad to get his paws off of me?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re my dad, too. Let him take care of you.”
Wade choked on air, and Laura walked away without another word, probably to return to bed if Logan had to guess.
“...She just called me her dad.”
“Sure did, bub.”
“What. The. Shit. Am I dreaming? Pinch me, Wolvie.”
He extended his claws with a sharp clink just to see Wade squirm a little.
“Ah, Jesus, no! Bad Edward Scissor-Hands! I said pinch, not stab!”
Logan rolled his eyes while retracting the blades. “You’re not dreaming. Jesus, bub, you spent all that time convincing me that I was her father-figure, but you didn’t even realize you became one too?” Wade stayed quiet, an eerie and rare occurrence, simply staring at Logan almost catatonically.
The silence was not long lasting.
“Does this mean we’re married?!”
With one swift motion, Logan slapped one hand over Wade’s mouth, and used the other to fish the bullet out of his shoulder.
The next few days were the same routine, although thankfully minus Logan having to play operation on Wade’s body.
Wade would leave after dinner in his Deadpool suit to go earn their rent money, and wouldn’t return until dawn. Why he was staying out all night baffled Logan to no end, but the other man dodged giving an explanation at every turn. Finally, after more than a week of Logan going to sleep with the other side of their shared-bed cold and empty, Laura spoke up over breakfast. A breakfast that Wade wasn’t there for, because, of course, he was still out and about.
“He’s not sleeping. I’m worried about him.” She told him, deadly serious. It took him a second to catch some footing at the heartfelt admission, but eventually Logan shook it off and cleared his throat.
“You don’t need to worry. He’s an idiot, no doubt about that, but he can also take care of himself.”
“Can he?”
His daughter’s eyes bore into his own, and he floundered yet again for a response. She continued before he could get any words out, though. “I think he’s having nightmares, and that’s why he’s staying out so late. He doesn’t want to sleep.”
Logan furrowed his eyebrows. He was no stranger to nightmares himself, no mutant was. And after everything that went down with the X-men in his universe, sleepless nights were his norm for a long time.
But then he came to this universe. The universe with a loud, annoying, vulgar, asshole who had a - goddamn it - good heart and warm smile, and could occasionally tell a good joke.
And that didn’t fix everything. Logan wasn’t healed from his past just because he gained an adopted daughter and some semblance of family - but it helped. Even Mary Puppins, while he loathed to admit it, helped him sleep easier, her ragged breathing in her own slumber lulling him to sleep most nights.
So the thought of Wade purposefully keeping himself awake to outrun his own mind, well, it put a bad taste in his mouth. He wanted to call it pity, be condescending and move on, but he couldn’t. When did he start caring about the merc with a mouth?
He had waited too long to respond, something he realized a moment too late; Laura cleared his throat to get his attention back, her eyes knowing and cutting straight to his soul.
“He thinks he can not sleep because he can regenerate,” Laura said, slow and careful, like she was worried Logan wouldn’t understand, “but that’s not how it works. He is going to get hurt, mind and body.”
Logan sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Good.”
Distantly, he heard their apartment door open and shut, the sound of Wade’s soft humming growing louder as he neared them.
“Talk to who about what? You’re not cheating on me, are you, peanut? Now tell me their name, address, and social security number.” Wade quipped cheerfully, oblivious to what they had been truly discussing.
Laura shot Logan a look, dumped her cereal bowl in the sink, and left the room. Wade watched her go, his hands on his hips and confusion somehow showing through his masked face. He tilted his head back towards Logan.
“Was it something I said?”
“Sit down and eat.”
“I thought you would never ask!”
Wade jumped up on top of the table, swinging his legs in the air. As he munched loudly on dry cereal straight out of the box, Logan eyed him warily, trying to decipher how long it had been since the other man had slept.
Wade paused his chewing to throw Logan a suspicious look. “Why are you staring at me? If it’s because I used your toothbrush yesterday, I’m sorry! I had to use mine for Mary Puppin’s teeth! Honestly, you’re lucky, you got the better end of the deal-“
“You- what the fuck?” Logan stared at him incredulously. “Are you being serious right now?”
“…No. And if that’s not what you’re upset about, then why do you look like you just walked in on Blind Al touching herself?”
Logan took a deep breath, trying to calm down and not stab Wade. “You haven’t been sleeping.”
“Sure I have!” Wade reassured him, just a bit too quickly to sound believable. “What makes you think I haven’t, snookums?”
“You’re never home at night. I haven’t seen you in the bed in weeks.”
The other man put a hand to his chest, gasping dramatically and showing off a mischievous grin. “I knew it! I knew you wanted me in bed with you, you perv!”
“Wade.” Logan warned, voice rough and thin on patience. “Answer the fucking question.”
“Sorry, sugar bear, but I don’t recall you asking one.”
“Why haven’t you been sleeping?” Logan gritted out, frustrated and angry.
Wade jumped off of the table, back turned to Logan. “I have been. Glad that’s solved! Now, since that’s all, I’ll be off. Places to go and people to see, Wolvie!”
He was out the door and gone before Logan could object.
Grunting in frustration, Logan’s claws…accidentally…ended up embedded in the table.
God-fucking-dammit.
The next two weeks were more of the same. Wade seemed normal enough during the day time, and by nightfall he was gone on a job. Logan, and occasionally Laura, would try to speak to him about his sleeping problem, and he would weasel his way out of the conversation every single time. He had a knack for distracting Logan by annoying the fuck out of him until the subject was dropped, and it wasn’t until hours later that the Wolverine realized he’d been played.
It all came to head one night, long after Wade had disappeared to hunt down bad men and the rest of the house was asleep. Even Logan, who occasionally worked late hours as a bartender to hold up his end of the rent, was passed out on the bed. Ever the light sleeper, he was awoken by the sound of someone creeping through the hallways. He glanced over at the clock, which told him that it was well past two in the morning.
Figuring it was likely Laura getting up to get water, he began to roll back over and drift off, but was stopped when the room’s door creaked open. He shot up like a light, claws unsheathing at record speed.
“Woah, woah!” It was Wade, still clad in his Deadpool suit, holding up his hands frantically. “Claws away, kitty! It’s just me!”
Logan huffed, retracting the blades. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Uh, in case you’ve forgotten, I live here, honey-badger.”
“You’re never here at night,” Logan insisted, leveling the other with a withering look, “so let me ask again: what are you doing here?”
It took Logan by surprise to see Wade look a little sheepish at the question. The mercenary quickly shook it off though, almost like it didn’t happen at all.
“Well, peanut, some ugly bitch threw my katana into a deep abyss, so I’m here for my extras.”
Logan furrowed his eyebrows. The Deadpool he knew, the Wade he knew, was too skilled to allow his enemies to get a hold of his weapons. He was a damn-good fighter, and surprisingly perceptive. Which meant one thing. The lack of sleep was getting to the man, and he was slipping. When Logan said as much, Wade just laughed.
“This again? I already told you, hot stuff. I’m sleeping just fine.”
“When? When do you sleep? Cause it’s sure as hell not any time you’re at the house.”
“Wolvie-“
“You know what? No.” Logan’s frustration caught up with him. “I’m done listening to your shit. I know you’re having nightmares, and that’s why you’re not sleeping. News flash, asshole, I get them too. We all do. So why the fuck are you trying to hide it from everyone?”
Wade was eerily silent for a few seconds, before clearing his throat. “I’m not having nightmares.”
That made Logan laugh, loud and mean. “Bull-fucking-shit!”
“Well, what do you want me to say?!” He exploded, the switch-up from joking to serious throwing Logan off momentarily. Wade continued before he could respond.
“What? You want me to tell you about the nights where I’m being tortured all over again? Where Franci’s FUCK-ASS smile is burned into the back of my eyes? Where I’m locked in a tube, and I can’t breathe, and suddenly there’s a hideous monster in the reflection of the glass??” Wade breathed raggedly, eyes surely wild and blazing with fury beneath his mask. “Or would you rather I tell you about the nightmares I have where I can’t stop you in time and you sacrifice yourself for me?! Or where you, or Laura, or any of our friends get hurt and I can’t save you?? Where I fail every single fucking time? Oh, and who could forget the ones where you finally realize there’s something way better for you out there than living in this shit-hole with a freak of nature, and you leave me and I’m all alone?!”
The end of his rant was borderline-hysteric, and Logan was at a loss for words. All he could do was stare at Wade, whose chest was heaving, his loud breaths the only sound in their otherwise shocked silence.
Logan wasn’t good with words, but damn if he wasn’t going to try.
He lifted the duvet cover up awkwardly and beckoned the other over, who complied in an uncharacteristically subdued and exhausted manner. Wade climbed into bed beside him, and they sat in silence for another moment, Logan taking the time to carefully construct his thoughts.
“Well, at least I kept my cool there.” Wade finally said, chucking miserably.
Logan snorted, despite himself. “Jesus, bub, what the fuck is going on with you?” His words were gentle, soft even.
“Too much for Disney to ‘okay’ for the big screen.” Wade shrugged. “Probably why this is a fanfic.”
Deciding to decipher what that meant later, Logan turned his body to fully face Wade, slowly reaching his hands up to remove the man’s mask. Wade let him do so, likely too tired and vulnerable to put up a fight, and so the red leather slipped off. Logan threw it behind him, trying to get a good look at the other’s face in the dark room, but Wade’s eyes were glued to the duvet.
Logan made a split second decision, and reached his hands up once more, this time to tilt Wade’s face up in an attempt to nudge him to meet his eyes. He kept a gentle hold on his chin, even after Wade’s glossy eyes met his own in shock and confusion.
“Please.” Logan managed to get out, despite his discomfort. “Just listen. I know it’s real hard for you to shut that fucking mouth for more than sixty seconds, but try for me, okay?” Wade nodded, eyes wide, so Logan continued. “I’m…I’m not good at this kind of stuff, okay? I’m not good with words. But I need you to understand that you’re not a monster, or a freak of nature, or any of the other terrible things you think about yourself. You’re a hero, Wade. You’re a survivor. And unfortunately, those two things come with the territory of having nightmares. I wish I could find a way to make them stop, make it so that you don’t have to deal with them anymore, but I can’t. All I can do is ask you to please stay tonight. Sleep in this bed with me. Let me help. You saved me before, you got me out of a dark place. Let me do the same for you.”
A tear slipped down Wade’s cheek, and he rubbed at it roughly.
“Not good with words? You’re like goddamn Shakespeare.” He sniffled. “…If Shakespeare was ripped and had knives between his knuckles.”
Logan laughed. He must really be losing it, to have laughed twice now at Wade’s jokes. “So will you stay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll stay,” Wade said with a watery smile, “god I knew you were a softie deep down.”
“Shut up. Get out of that suit and lay down.”
“Oh ho ho? Take me out to dinner first, big guy.”
Logan shoved him out of the bed. He left, hello kitty pajamas in hand, and returned a few minutes later looking absolutely exhausted.
“I’m so tired.” He complained, sliding back into the bed.
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you barely sleep for a month and a half.”
“So…Before we go to sleep and you wake up to me trying to stab imaginary people, should we talk about your confession?”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “That was a confession?”
“Was it not?”
He wanted to say it wasn’t, admit that they were friends and leave it at that. But the night had already been crazy, and he was tired of pretending he was okay with being platonic roommates who shared a daughter and a dog. And Blind Al.
“No, it…it was.” Logan grimaced, then took a deep breath. “Do not be an asshole about this, I swear to god, but- I’m in love with you, Wade.”
The other’s grin widened, his eyes bright and excited. “Fuck yes!! Thank god, or this would be really awkward.”
“What would-“
His sentence was interrupted by Wade’s lips on his own, and suddenly Logan forgot what he was even trying to say, instead cupping Wade’s face and deepening the kiss. Eventually they pulled apart, panting and dazed, and Logan pressed their foreheads together, still holding Wade’s face.
“I’m in love with you, too, by the way,” Wade whispered, a smirk evident through his tone, “you’re stuck with me now. I’m like if you got gum stuck in those claws of yours, you can’t get rid of me.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Good.”
Then he pushed Wade over, wrangling him until they were both lying down, Wade’s back pressed against Logan’s chest.
“Holy shitballs. The Wolverine likes to spoon.”
“Shut up. Go to sleep.”