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Distant sounds of screams and cries for help could be heard far away from where Logan stood. A strong smell of blood overcomes his senses, and that lets him know he was too late. The grasslands and skylines around him were rather desolate, in contrast with the terror he could feel resonate within his bones all over again.
It happened again. He had failed his world.
Yes, he managed to save another and reside in that one, yet he still couldn’t fathom the idea of him being a hero. Within him there’s so much torment and hurt he’s experienced— Logan’s previous coping mechanism was “do unto others what has been done to him” or “do unto himself what has been done to him”. While he has grown far past that mindset, he is left contemplating what to do with himself now. It may seem easy to overcome, especially since he’s redeemed himself by now, but deep down Logan finds himself standing before what shouldn’t have been an inevitable end.
He’s saved others, but he still can’t save himself. How much longer can he endure this self loathing, until he fails again?
Logan’s ears started to ring loudly, and he could feel himself plummeting into a spiraling darkness.
——
He woke up with his blades out— ready to stab at whatever was near him. The ember glow of the moon shone through the window curtains, making the razors look rather sharp and pristine. His body was covered in a slick of sweat, yet Logan still shivered uncontrollably. All is silent except for the sound of a ticking clock within the kitchen. That is, until an annoying voice interrupts the nighttime quiet.
“So, whatcha dreaming about?” The wolverine snaps his head over, and his blades rise to a stabbing position, until he realizes who that voice belongs to. He’s met with the sight of his irritable roommate “Wade Wilson”, otherwise known as “Deadpool” when he’s wearing that obnoxious, red spandex.
“Bad dog!” Wade yells at him, “No treats for you if there’s anymore of that stabby stabby stuff going on!”
They’ve been roommates for quite some time now after having Cassandra Nova kick rocks to bald hell, and also somehow saving the universe despite their neverending bickering. However, that’s a deep understatement of their relationship. Their bickering used to go beyond just miniscule old-married couple arguments, and usually it would lead to them beating the ever loving shit out of each other. Now is an entirely different story.
Logan had nowhere to go after their exhausting adventure. His first thought was to return home, before realizing that there is no home to return to. He abandoned his world, so his world abandoned him. During their little date after nearly sacrificing themselves, he considered just exploring the streets and looking for any living options that’s anything besides Blind Al’s cracked cocaine lair. Yet, when Wade called after him, the wolverine then truly weighed his options. As obnoxious as Wade is— he could make a home there. Not on the city streets, or in some motel room, but in a small little apartment with god’s perfect idiot, an elderly blind lady, and an excitable pup.
Then indeed, Logan did find his home. Despite it being on a pull-out bed he shared with another man, it was better than being harassed by strangers at bars, and overtime he seemed to surprisingly get along with the rather abrasive Wilson. Their confusing, yet close friendship was bound to bloom further in such tight conditions. They already shared an apartment and a bed, so they started to share a similar routine. Even in circumstances that would seem rather odd to others, like Wade brushing his teeth in the same bathroom that Logan is showering in, they grew accustomed to their traditions. Logan would never admit it, but he did quite enjoy this domestic life.
The tension and resentment boiled down to light-hearted jokes, and Logan found himself rarely drawing his claws, or needing them for that matter. Although, don’t get him wrong, because it’s still exhilarating to put Deadpool in his place. The biggest reason for their physical activities pausing is Blind Al couldn’t tell if they were fighting, or fucking. In order to have her stop dropping strange comments with Wade insinuating a string of innuendos right after, Logan put the violent, homoerotic antics on hold (or, at least they didn’t do it in her presence).
Another reason for the random pause to their weird, intimate, and violent escapades is Logan felt awkward being put in that situation. Anybody would, really, but it felt way different this time. He couldn’t tell why or what unnecessary feelings had been stirring within him regarding Wade, but it sucked. It was now more than just pent up anger or being sick of his bullshit, but he especially struggled to come to terms with what it may be. And Logan didn’t really want to discover the cause of this peculiar phenomena, either. He continued to feel it when they crawled into bed or made burnt breakfast together in the morning, and now he felt it again when he stared into Wade’s eyes after having another night terror.
Logan retracted his claws, and huffed in frustration. “Nothing is wrong. Go back to sleep.”
“Are you sure, peanut? You were just shaking and getting all sweaty in your sleep while muttering incoherent words.” Wade pouted, “I couldn’t tell if you were experiencing an undiagnosed ptsd oriented nightmare, or a wet dream.”
“You sick fuck.”
“Are you done stating the obvious?”
“Don’t have those thoughts about me, and I’m perfectly fine. I can also assure you it wasn’t…sexual. I would never have those ideas when sharing a bed with you. Trust me.” Logan grumbled, before covering himself in sheets and flipping over, his back now facing Wade. “Now shut the fuck up and go back to bed. I already have to deal with the pup barking at squirrels in the morning…”
A moment of silence passed between the two, before Logan could feel a shift in the mattress. “You sure you don’t want to talk?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, if you were fine, you wouldn’t be having nightmares reflecting the deepest parts of your character—“
“Quit psychoanalyzing me. I told you I’m fine, so I’m fine. I don’t need your pity.” Logan spoke louder this time, and then proceeded to toss the blankets over his head in hopes Wade would leave him alone.
However, Wade isn’t one to give up so easily. He continued to press on, “What would you need my pity for, hm?”
“Nothing. Which is why I don’t need it, and I would never take your sympathy anyways. Now do me a favor and talk to your pillow instead of jabbering into my ears.”
Wade nodded at that, and proceeded to pick up the pillow his head was previously resting on. He gave it a skeptical look, “What do you think, Truthful Timmy the Blowjob Queen of Saskatoon? Is peanut sulking miserably because he thinks he doesn’t deserve any comfort in this god forsaken world, or is he telling the truth about being all fine and dandy? Hm, what’s that?” Wade leaned a little closer in and held his hand to his ear as if he were listening to his pillow’s whispers. Then, he unexpectedly started hitting his roommate with the pillow. “Truthful Timmy calls bullshit, and they never lie!”
Logan sat up almost instantaneously, and grabbed Wade’s pillow with an iron grip. Before Wade could even react, Logan harshly tugged the pillow downhard, and he fell down with it. “What the hell is wrong with you? I didn’t feel like knocking teeth in at 3am, but I guess that’ll have to suffice if it means making you shut the fuck up for at least five seconds.”
“Woah woah woah— hey!” Wade raised his hands, looking up at Logan with his best, innocent eyes. “Nothing is wrong with me. I’m just concerned for a dear friend… if I could even call you that.”
Before Logan could react to his last comment, Wade continued. “Plus, you did already hurt me. If you keep giving me injuries I’m making you sleep with Mary Puppkins!”
“Wh- what do you mean?” Logan paused for a moment, and he got choked up on his words. He raised his voice, but this time it was more in concern than anger. “What do you mean I hurt you?!”
“Woah, easy there mutton chops. It wasn’t too bad compared to all the other times you beat me senseless. Here, I’ll show you the blood stain.” Wade replied earnestly, and a little confused about the sudden concern.
Logan continued to glare at him for a moment; debating whether he should actually believe him or not. But, based on prior instances, he knew he should. So, he carefully let go of Wade’s wrists, and the other man proceeded to sit up straight. The blanket Wade had on covered his waist and everything below. He pulled down the sheets, and
revealed a crimson stain that bled onto the white shirt Wade wore.
At the very sight of it, Logan grew emotional, even though he tried very hard not to. An awkward sob leaves his throat; kindred to an unprovoked geyser that erupts from the undertow. Memories of hurt done to not only him, but to his world tenfold, were all coming back. Although, there were no tears left to shed; Cassiel wouldn’t even cry for a weak man such as himself. Unable to catch his breath, all sensibility left his thoughts, and he dropped his head into his hands.
Logan began to shake uncontrollably— grunting and silently sobbing at what he had done. He thought he had got out of this habit long ago, after Jean’s blood stained his blade. He should’ve known that there would be no reconciling the deepest parts of himself. After all, he is the worst Wolverine. There is no escaping his failures, no matter how much time has passed.
A hand softly touched his back; it was hesitant at first, but after a moment, he felt the blade of his shoulder being rubbed soothingly. Logan was never one for touch. Any ordinary touch felt like burning on his skin, and it was worse than any sunburn one would get under the blistering heat. Disturbing shivers would be sent up along his spine, up into his mind, and he would retaliate almost immediately at even the slightest poke of a finger. For a while, he would still feel that ache on his skin, biting into his flesh.
However, it is a different case for Wade. As hard as it may be to admit, his touch isn’t a scalding burn that dug beyond tissues and muscle, no. Instead, it is like what a hug is supposed to feel to any other person. Warm, inviting, with a deep understanding of one another. His flamboyant demeanor and hyper exterior isn’t a match for how his touch just feels right. It’s something he would never admit, but Logan no longer finds himself baring his teeth and releasing his blades at the rough texture of Wade’s palm. It’s not dangerous; he always knows his intentions. At first, he would begrudgingly lean into the comfort, yet now he needed it more than ever.
“Hey, peanut,” Wade whispered; Logan isn’t sure if he’s ever heard him talk so softly before. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Logan didn’t utter a word, and his face was still buried within his hands. He grew too embarrassed, but also secretly fearful to leave the eternal darkness that was before his eyes. Before all of this, he would rather kill himself than (almost) cry infront of Wade fucking Wilson. Nevertheless, it’s wise to just assume nothing ever goes his way. He couldn’t even find it in himself to yell at him or flinch back, but the most surprising part of it all is he actually felt himself listening to his companion.
When Logan didn’t respond, Wade suddenly grabbed his wrists, and took his hands into his own. “I’m still alive. I’m not dead, although I thought you would be pretty happy if I was.” He snorted in a weak attempt to lighten the mood, before he coughed and shook his head. “You know very well you couldn’t ever truly hurt me if you tried. If it were any other fucking instance where I woke up to someone stabbing me, I’d be pissed. But I’m not upset, because I think I may know the reason why you’re so afraid.”
Logan snatched his hands away at that comment, and gave Wade a mean glare. “You know nothing about me.”
“I don’t know all your exact pain, and I certainly don’t know how to comfort people, but I do know one thing for certain; It isn’t your fault.”
The air then fell silent. An awkward tension grew between the two, until Logan spoke up in a weak and skeptical voice, “What?”
“You’ve been through a lot. Like, a shit lot. Ever since you were a wee baby. Can you imagine that? All of the torment and trauma you went through wasn’t your choice. This life of immortality wasn’t your choice, if you really think about it. And, the aftermath of it all certainly was out of your control too. These nightmares are just a result of all the bullshit you went through.” Wade said a little louder and, strangely, empathetic this time. “I’ve been through a lot, too. Despite how different our lives are… I can say with full confidence that none of it was our fault.”
“I failed the X-Men before in my last life.” Logan said despairingly, “There’s no excuse for that.”
“That’s all in the past now. You’ve suffered so much, and you came back from it all! You should be proud; you’ve made progress.”
“Your wound…”
Wade sighed, “God, I’m fine gramps! A small stabby stabby from your little steak knife during a nightmare isn’t the end of the world. It definitely isn’t the end of me! Remember; until 90.”
Logan seemed completely unconvinced. His eyes traveled back down to the bloodstain, and he examined it carefully, until a rather peculiar idea came to him. “Can I… nevermind.”
“Come on, peanut! Hit me. Not physically just yet, but y’know… with the question.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and Logan eventually sighed. “Can I look at it? To make sure?”
“To make sure there’s no wound?” Wade tilted his head slightly, before shrugging. At any other instance, he would’ve definitely made some sort of sexually charged joke— at least he knows there’s a time and place for things like that. “Sure. I don’t mind.”
Just as Wade was about to lift the hem of his shirt, Logan moved one of his hands at the exact same time. They both paused, unsure of one another’s next moves, but Wade quickly broke the tension. “Did you want to do it yourself?”
“If… that’s okay.”
With the room only being illuminated by the light from the window, Wade could hardly see it, yet he swore he saw Logan’s face grow a little red at his question.
Paying no mind to it (although he certainly was going to bring it up at one point or another), Wade nodded. Logan proceeded to discreetly inch his hand closer until he grabbed the hem of the shirt, and hesitantly lifted it up to where the supposed ‘wound’ should’ve been.
It’s just as Wade said; there was no wound. Of course there wasn’t. Logan felt like he was losing his very own mind, and he began to grow dizzy looking at Wade’s scarred skin. When sweat began to collect along his brow, he retreated his hand back and rubbed his knuckles.
With how caring Logan was being, Wade didn’t know how to react. He was never used to such gentleness— especially from the Wolverine himself. Between the two of them, it has always been rough, but this moment felt so serene and special.
Wade inhaled, and flashed a rare, kind smile. “See? No wound. I’m fine, I’ll always be fine, and you will be too.”
Logan’s eyes scanned the other’s expression, desperately trying to seek out whether he was joking or actually serious. Then, he sighed, and laid back down on the uncomfortable pullout mattress. “…Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
Apologizing seemed difficult for Logan to do. He gritted his teeth, before shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Just saying you’re allowed to be upset. I’d be pissed too if someone stabbed me out of nowhere while I was sleeping.”
Wade rolled his eyes. “I said it’s no big deal, mutton chops! You seriously—“
“And thank you. I know I can be… a lot to deal with.” Logan clawed at his wrists, and desperately tried to hide any hint of glum or panic.
Although, it obviously didn’t work, because Wade immediately spoke up to point out his antsiness. “You’re afraid of me being upset with you!”
“No I’m not.”
“It’s not a question, Wolvie, I’m stating a fact—“
“Shut up.”
“And, not only that, but you’re afraid of going back to sleep!”
Before he could go on, he felt something cushiony hit his face. It dropped into his hands, and he realized it was a pillow. Logan tried, once more, for him to shut his mouth. However, it only made matters worse, as Wade began to giggle manically. He took the pillow himself, placing it right next to Logan’s pillow, and fell onto it. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Logan groaned, and quickly turned around, facing away from Wade. “It doesn’t matter. Just go back to sleep—“
Suddenly, an arm snaked around his waist, and pulled him close into a familiar warmth. Wade was hugging him.
He tensed up all over, unprepared for the precipitated touch, yet he didn’t react out in violence or try to stop Wade. Instead, he just laid there, his eyes wide as he accepted the warmth.
“Touch starved, aren’t ya, peanut?” Wade giggled next to his ear, “I knew I would be able to cuddle with you someday.”
“Don’t make me slice your arms off next.” Logan threatened, trying to appear intimidating, despite the fact he was sinking into Wade’s embrace and going against every single one of his thoughts. It’s unfathomable for Logan to accept this truth, yet perhaps this isn’t the worst thing ever.
The tension in his muscles succumbed to the warmth that Wade had snuggled him into. Logan always hated being so vulnerable, but they’ve already seen far too much of each other than necessary. A little indulgence wouldn’t hurt, right?
So, he let his worries go for once, and let himself be engulfed by the comfort before it passed. He never gets a lot of moments like these where everything is tranquil for once. The beating of Wade’s heart reassured him that he was alive and well, while a distant ticking of a clock reminded him to appreciate this while it lasted. No worries of what will follow him in the future, or what previous mistakes may come back to bite him. Over these past two hundred years he’s pretended to live, and never got to experience what it’s actually like to be alive. It will take him a while to adjust to such a simpler life, and if cuddling with God’s perfect idiot is the first step to achieving that goal, then so be it.
Dazing in and out of sleep, he continued to focus on Wade’s heartbeat as if it was a serene lullaby. Sleeping and waking up was already hard enough, but falling asleep? Especially after a nightmare? Logan usually gives up at that point.
Although, this is not one of those instances. Finally, he surrenders to a lovely tenderness. One that he has been wanting; no, needing, for a very long time.
“Sleep little badger, aren’t ya? I can see why domestication is appealing now. It doesn’t take much for a touch starved wolverine to fall asleep.” Wade whispered teasingly, and squeezed Logan tighter. “G’night, peanut.”
Logan grumbled in response— he was way too tired to be angry, and there’s practically nothing he can do to save his image at this point. As out of character as it is for the Wolverine, perhaps one sweet embrace can chip away at his cold exterior. Or, maybe that’s just the curse of being roommates with the insufferable, yet rather endearing, Wade Wilson. Which he will definitely hear an earful from, once they awake from their slumber.
But for now, they rest.