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She died. Logan’s first love when he was 18 had died. It was because of him. Logan was a mutant, a freak. Mother Nature’s mistake.
There were always people on the hunt for him. So people did the predictable thing and used the ones closest to him as a bargaining chip.
They took her to lure him into a death trap. That was obvious enough. He took it, he couldn’t leave her to die.
They killed her in front of him. Logan didn’t have any time to say goodbye. He had to retreat after slaughtering her captors. He chalked the events of that night to young stupidity. That was long ago.
He missed her constantly. He mourned her. She had a smile that broke the ice over his heart. She taught him that humans can be kind. That human-mutant coexistence can actually be possible. If not the whole world, at least some people don’t think mutants are monsters.
He missed her smile, her laugh. The jokes she told. Her brash unladylike quips. She was the only one who could make him laugh.
He missed her distinct smell. The rose and sandalwood smell that radiated off of her. He loved it.
She was the whole reason he stopped running. He wanted to settle with her. But he could see now that that was stupid. He couldn’t not run.
43 years later, Logan finished mourning. He lived his life. Moved to the city, tried to suppress his animalistic instinct. Tried to assimilate into human life.
That’s when he met a man. He was rather handsome with his pale, blonde hair.
The man was on his commute to work when they met. He took a wrong turn and lost his way a little. He made quippy jokes about it, hitting Logan’s sense of humor right on the dot.
Logan helped the man find his way to work. He felt attached all of a sudden. He reminded him too much of his first love. He even smelled like her. Sandalwood and roses.
They met up more. Talked more and joked quietly. There were many nights where they retired to the man’s place. Had a glass of whiskey or two.
And one night, one thing after another happened…
Logan couldn’t get drunk. He knew what he was doing. He knew he wanted this with this man. He felt it in his bones. He could smell it off of the man sometimes. The arousal and the wanting.
After some conversation, they ended up being intimate quite a lot. Not just intercourse, but with other affectionate acts.
But they got too close. People began to notice. The late 1800’s was not a safe place for this kind of relationship.
The people killed the man and went after Logan next. This time he got the chance to say goodbye. But he knew it wouldn’t be goodbye forever. He knew that this soul would find him again, he just had to have patience.
He gave himself the satisfaction of killing the people who murdered his love. He was heartbroken over him for years, but he eventually healed the wounds that no healing factor can fix.
He figured out that souls are recycled.
One body dies and the next gets the soul. The person develops the personality and the scent of the person before.
Logan kept his eye out for the one who bore the soul. He couldn’t find the next one. He didn’t find this person for a century.
He missed them. He wanted the girl who stood by him in his teen years. He wanted the man who taught him to be himself. He wanted the next one too. Whoever that may be.
He tried to forget in order to cut his losses. It was a really slim chance that he would find the soul again. There were billions of people on the planet. It was luck that he found the man in the first place.
But maybe that soul was destined for him. Maybe he was always meant to find them in every life.
He waited for a century with no luck.
—
Logan was sitting with the X-men in the kitchen.
Slim was babbling about something in that stupid fucking stoic voice he always has.
He wasn’t even paying attention. He was thinking that he should probably use the danger room soon. Clawing bad guys to shreds sounded fun right now
Then a new scent grew stronger, it smelled so familiar. He knew that an extra person was in the mansion, but didn’t see it as a threat. Jean did mention that there was a new X-man joining the team.
He looked over at the door and there stood a person with olive skin, short brown hair, and defined cheekbones. Logan thought they were pretty in their turtleneck and brown leather jacket.
They awkwardly stepped in the room and sat at an empty stool at the counter next to Storm.
Logan though he might as well listen to what Xavier Jr. had to say.
”Storm picked up Morph from one of her missions,” Scott said. “They are going to give being an X-man a try so for now they are going to be a temporary resident until they either decide that it's not for them or they want to become permanent. I feel like they will be a useful asset, so don’t scare them off, Meeting Ajourned.”
Scott walked off elsewhere and Logan thanked whoever that it was over.
Logan stayed in the room. He stared down Morph as Scott and some of the others left.
Just when Scott was out of earshot,Morph said: “Is he always so soldier-like or what?”
“Slim has been and always will be a tight-ass.” Logan responded.
“Well he should probably get that checked out. That seems like a medical emergency to me” they said.
Logan cuckled. The others who stayed in the room were stunned. Logan Howlet didn’t laugh. He never laughed. He was a grump with zero sense of humor.
Logan was overjoyed. It was them. The same sense of humor and the same sandalwood and rose scent.
He found them.