Work Text:
Sandrock hadn’t been the quiet, sleepy town Logan remembered from his childhood for a long time. With everything that had happened in the last two years, that time sometimes almost felt like a half-remembered dream, slowly fading away with every passing moment.
But as he rode through the empty streets at the crack of dawn, Logan couldn’t help but be reminded of that desert hamlet he had grown up in. All scraped knees and toothy smiles he had been then, chasing one critter or another through the streets and into the vast, open dunes beyond, with Owen and Heidi by his side, and Elsie trailing behind once she was old enough. Truly, he loved Sandrock; always had, always would - the lengths he’d gone to to protect it were proof enough of that. The people, the town he’d known all his life, the harsh but beautiful land all around, he would have given up everything if it only meant they would be safe. He very nearly had.
But then Violet had stumbled into his life, and he suddenly wasn’t quite so ready to let it all go anymore.
A quiet gurgle made him turn his head as Rambo trotted by the Golden Goose, and he smiled at his daughter, securely strapped to the back of his saddle in a cradle-like contraption her brilliant, beautiful mother had engineered.
“Ain’t you a happy little thing,” he whispered, and the giggle that answered him seemed like the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “We’re almost there.”
He could see smoke rising from the chimneys of both Dr. Fang’s clinic and Mort’s hut. Logan knew they both liked to start their day early, but he also knew neither of them were the type to intrude on someone’s private moment.
They’d both had their share of grief, and understood its importance.
Logan brought Rambo to a halt in front of the graveyard’s gates, and he was careful not to jostle the saddle too much as he turned around, undoing the buckles keeping the baby in place and delicately scooping her up into his arms before leaping to the ground.
“We’re all set,” he said, smiling down at her as she stared up at him with wide green eyes. He raised his hand, and ran one finger down her soft cheek, eliciting a cheerful little noise from her that almost set his heart to bursting. “Let’s go, Sweetheart.”
The gate creaked slightly as Logan pushed it open, and he only had to take a few steps before he reached his destination. He looked down, pressing a hand to the baby’s back as the grave in front of him stood silent and still.
“Hey, Pa,” Logan breathed.
A hot desert breeze blew across his face - his only answer.
“Been a while, I know.” He brushed a bit of sand off the top of the headstone before sitting down in front of it, folding one leg under the other. “Sorry. But, well…” An enthusiastic but unintelligible string of babbling cut him off, and he laughed quietly as he felt tiny hands grasp at his shirt. “Someone kept me pretty busy.” He patted his daughter’s back gently. “You remember Violet, don’t you? Told you about her the last time I was here, didn’t I?” He paused, and took a deep breath before speaking again. “I married her, Pa. Little more than a year ago. And now… I have someone new to introduce you to.”
Logan looked down once more, and pressed a gentle kiss to the downy hair covering the baby’s head before shifting her into the crook of his elbow. She let go of his shirt in favor of reaching for a long strand of hair that had escaped his ponytail, though it was mercifully far out of her reach. He couldn’t help a soft laugh before he raised his head, looking at the tombstone once more.
“Pa, this is Ivy,” Logan said. “My daughter.” he felt a knot form in his throat, a tightness he hadn’t felt in a long time. Still, he choked the words out. “Your granddaughter.” He reached up and took off his hat, setting it down next to him. “If only you… If I had…”
The words caught inside his throat once more, too many at once, too heavy, and, this time, he couldn’t manage to force them out. The wound of his Pa’s fate hadn’t felt this raw in quite a while; he almost felt as if it had been ripped open anew inside him, the pain suddenly almost as sharp as it had been then, when he’d realised what he’d done - what he'd thought he’d done.
It had taken a long time, but he had healed. And everything had turned out for the best. But, still -
“I wish you were here,” Logan breathed, raising his eyes to the sky. The pink hues of the early morning were quickly fading away. “Wish you could see Ivy and Andy together. He’s already grown up so much.” He quietly chuckled to himself, closing his eyes. “I know what you’d say: ‘Ain’t no use wishin’, Logan. You gotta make it happen.’ But I think you’ll agree that, this time…” He opened his eyes, following the leisurely flight of a lone bird far above him. “I can’t do nothin’ much but wish.”
He looked at the headstone again, releasing a long, shaky breath.
“I miss you. Every day. I do.” He reached out, brushing his fingers over the carved letters of his father’s name. ”Reckon I always will.”
Logan stayed like that a long time, sitting in front of the headstone, rocking Ivy in his arms and talking about everything that had happened in the last year or so - how Sandrock had changed and grown, in more ways than one, and how hope finally seemed to have taken root in this little desert town that Howlett had worked so hard to protect. But, eventually, Ivy started to squirm, and he knew it was time to go. Logan picked up his hat, dusting it off and putting it back on his head before standing up and shushing her gently as he laid her against his shoulder. He pressed the fingers of one hand against his lips before placing them on top of the headstone.
“See you soon, Pa,” he whispered, lingering a few more seconds before he turned away and made his way back to Rambo, quietly whistling a soothing tune as Ivy made fussy, unhappy noises.
“Shh, shh, missy,” he breathed, tying her back into the contraption behind his saddle. “We’ll be home to your Ma before you know it.”
Once the ties of her seat were double checked, he hoisted himself into the saddle and immediately turned Rambo towards home, urging him onward at a slow trot, the smooth, regular sway of his gait successfully quieting Ivy down some. Sandrock was only just waking, and the streets were still almost empty, making for a quick trip back to his wife’s workshop. He could already see smoke rising from the chimney, signaling Violet had risen from where he’d left her, fast asleep in their bed with a note on the nightstand.
Logan saw the front door open as soon as he rode through the gate leading into the yard, and there was Violet, waving with a smile. He couldn’t help but answer in kind, and his heavy heart suddenly felt just a little lighter.
He brought Rambo to a halt, and she said nothing as she stepped forward, expertly undoing the buckles tying their daughter into her seat as Ivy started to cry in earnest, though she still took the time to lay a soothing hand on Logan’s thigh before she brought the baby inside, leaving him to put Rambo away in the stables before he followed her into the house. He found her sitting on the sofa, already holding Ivy to her breast. She looked up as he entered, giving him a small smile.
“Good morning,” Violet whispered.
“Mornin’,” he answered, bending down to kiss her lips before he sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her closer into his side. They sat like this for a few moments, both looking down at their child in the silence of the early morning as she drank her fill.
“Are you okay?” Violet asked eventually, without looking up at him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. Yes, he wanted to say, just to reassure her, and not make her worry. But she’d see right through him.
She always did.
“No,” he answered - truthfully, plainly. He turned his head, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting his lips linger there for a few seconds. “It was… harder than I thought it’d be.”
Violet raised her head to look at him, meeting his eyes and remaining silent for a moment, as if searching his gaze for something. Then she nodded to herself, as if she'd found it.
“But you will be,” she said - it was plainly a statement, not a question, and he couldn’t help a small laugh at that.
“Yeah,” he answered, leaning down once more to kiss her. He raised his hand, and brushed his fingers against Ivy’s hair. “I will be. I know it. Long as you’re there with me.”
It was her turn to kiss him, softly, gently, leaning back just enough so that she could whisper a single word against his lips.
“Always."