Chapter Text
It had seemed like a simple case. Follow the man and see what he was getting up to.
The man's wife had shown up at Logan's office, inconsolable. She was so sure her husband was having an affair. He'd grown sullen and angry over the past few months and would be out at all hours without telling her where he was. When he did come home, he barely talked to her.
"Its like he's a completely different person now! He's hiding something, please find out what it is," she sobbed into her handkerchief.
"I'll find out what he's up to and contact you once I have proof one way or the other. All you need to do is go back to your life as though everything is normal. Don't confront him, don't say anything out of the ordinary, just be patient a little while longer." His voice was gruff and assured and it was obvious that his handsome, rugged appearance and confident attitude put the woman at ease.
"Thank you, Mr. Logan," she rose from the dark leather couch and let him guide her to the door.
"It's no trouble at all."
No trouble… That night, he'd followed the man to a warehouse. It looked newly built with fresh white walls and big, tarp-covered windows. Circling the building casually, Logan saw a side of the warehouse populated by dock doors, though there was only one big rig currently docked near the end. The driver was probably asleep.
Something didn't smell right with this situation.
Logan finished his prowl of the perimeter and set up to watch the building entrance from a shadowed safe distance. He could see other men inside the building through the glass doors. They had what looked like semi-automatic rifles and a watchful, furtive look about them that just shouted that they were up to no good.
Adam Rickshaw was a fairly normal guy by all accounts. A 47-year-old balding construction worker with no criminal record and nothing that would suggest he'd be up to something involving an armed crew, at least from what Logan could find with his rather lacking online search skills. What would bring a man like him to such a place, and for what purpose?
Huffing a growl of irritation, it was clear he wouldn't be solving this puzzle tonight, Logan made note of the address and retreated to the parking lot adjacent to the warehouse to wait until Rickshaw reemerged and drove away.
There was a fleeting hope that Rickshaw would drive to a motel next to meet a lover, and Logan could snap some photos and wrap this case up easily. This hope was unceremoniously crushed when the man drove straight home from the warehouse and stayed there through the rest of the night.
Over the next three days and between his excursions tailing Rickshaw, Logan dug into the details of the warehouse. The building was under the ownership of Stryker Industries Corp, which seemed to deal in cybernetics and held several contracts with the military. Though concerning what exactly, he wasn't able to find.
It was clear that simply following Rickshaw around wasn't doing him any good; it was time to get in close.
Going undercover with a worn leather jacket over a yellow flannel and a baseball hat to tamp down his unruly hair, he trailed Rickshaw to a dingy pub just down the street from the Stryker warehouse. parking his motorbike, he waited and watched as Rickshaw was greeted by others who had been waiting for him. Most looked like rowdy muscle heads, their faces already flushed with alcohol. They all went in together, yelling and laughing. Logan followed them inside just moments later.
The place was a typical dive. sticky floors, music crackling over the aged speaker system that could barely be heard over the din of customers and the pervasive smell of sweat and urine that even the alcohol couldn't seem to overpower.
Logan positioned himself at the bar, where if he turned just so, as if he were trying to watch the game on the grainy television, he could somewhat listen in on the group of men without arousing suspicion.
"And so I said-"
"Filthy Muties… They'll get what's coming to them."
"…weapons.. won't know what hit them.."
Someone had turned the music up, and it was too loud to hear everything. Logan sighed and signaled the bartender for a beer.
He was fairly confident by now, after what he had just overheard, that Mr. Rickshaw had fallen into a very dangerous crowd.
How to proceed, though? It would be enough to give pictures of Rickshaw in the warehouse and going into the bar with his friends that he'd snapped to the man's wife.
Evidence that while Adam Rickshaw wasn't having an affair, he was getting involved in something far more dangerous, and she may want to consider divorce if she wanted to stay safe. It was, after all, what he had been hired to do, and whatever these men were planning, it really had nothing to do with him.
He nodded to himself and took a deep drink of his beer to finish off the bottle before heading for the door. Walking past the group, though, he paused. There was a scent, or rather the absence of scent, that was both unusual for a crowded bar full of overwhelming odors and very familiar. He only knew one person who smelled like that.
He turned to get a closer look at the raucous men, eyes searching their faces for any spark of familiarity or recognition. He saw, near the middle of the gathering, a tall and lithe young man with short dark hair sitting at the table.
The young man turned, also laughing, and that's when they caught each other's eyes.
Logan saw their eyes widen in recognition, then shock, and… hurt? The smile on their face froze. It was Morph, though they often went by Kevin while in their public persona. Logan had questions, but those would have to wait.
Morph's sudden stillness alerted the men around them to Logan's presence, and they bristled at the intrusion.
"Hey, what are you looking at, bud?" one of the men started.
He quieted when Morph waved a hand at him and stood, still smiling, but this one was lopsided with a hint of mischief that Logan recognized.
"No, it's okay, Greg. This is my friend Logan. He also shares our views on those damn muties. I gotta tell you, he's a damn fine man; former military. We met a couple years back when he was reintegrating into civilian life." Their warm brown eyes stayed on Logan, their head tilted in a way that said, "Play along."
Logan scuffed a boot and walked over amiably. "That's right, bub. And I'd say I didn't fight just to come home and have muties running around endangering us normal folks. Damn shame we can't do anything about it," he raised an eyebrow at Morph, silently asking. The look he got back was an affirming smile and relief shone in their eyes.
"You're in good company, pal. We could use another military man joining our cause." Greg had a predatory grin and lowered his voice, "And believe me, we're gonna do something about it."
"Yeah? You fellas cooking something up?" Logan matched that predatory grin.
"We are, but it's all still hush-hush and a need-to-know basis. Believe me, though, when the time comes, you'll be called on to do your part." Greg downed his bottle of beer and nudged Morph enthusiastically enough to make them stagger from the force.
"I look forward to taking part." Logan rumbled, steadying Morph.
"And we look forward to having you. We need everyone we can get. We need to open the eyes of all these mutant lovers and show them that there's no tolerance for the spawn of Satan." With that louder declaration, the whole group cheered.
After some time integrating and getting to know the group, Logan saw members begin to break off to go home and recognized that the time was finally appropriate to break away. He nudged Morph and darted a look toward the door, tapping their arm twice before heading out the door alone.
The rush of clean night air that swirled around him as he exited was a welcome relief from the overwhelming deluge of odors in the muggy bar, as was the quiet. He headed to his motorcycle and waited, replaying in his mind everything he'd learned, his thoughts lingering on seeing Morph again, on the pain in their face at seeing him.
Ten minutes later, Morph left the bar and sauntered over to Logan. He heard their steps slowing as they got closer, hesitant. There was a pause, and Logan couldn't look at them.
"So… you finally showed up again." Their tone was light, airy, unbothered. "What's it been, three years? I didn't think we'd see you again. thought you left us for good."
"Kevin…"
"Not that I blame you," they continued as if they hadn't heard him, "I just wish you had said something before you left."
"Kev, get on the bike. Here's not the place for this talk."
Silence again. Logan was starting to think they wouldn't. That they would walk away. Then the bike dipped and shifted slightly as Morph settled behind him, their chest pressed to his back and arms wrapping around his waist as the bike started and they left the parking lot.
"So, this is where you've been staying?" Morph looked around the small apartment. A studio with a kitchenette, a neatly made bed in the corner, and not much else.
"It's a month-by-month rental," Logan grunted as he closed the door. "The job has me traveling for long periods, depending on the case. Didn't make sense to have anything permanent."
"The job? What is it you're doing now?"
"Detective work."
"Ah, doing the whole film noir bit then? It suits you. I can picture you in a smoke-filled room with a coffee cup gone cold and some hot distressed widow asking you to save her cat." They give a soft chuckle, but it doesn't reach their eyes. "How long have you been back?"
Logan gave a heavy sigh and headed to the kitchenette. "Three months."
"Were you going to stop by the mansion at all? We've missed you up there, you know."
"Kev…"
"I know the professor leaving threw you off, and you don't get on well with Scott, and you said you needed to sort some things out. No one minds you going off on your own for a while, just…" They fell silent and shuffled their feet. They couldn't tell him that they'd wanted to go with him, that the nightmares had come back since he'd left. that they'd felt left behind again.
Logan still saw the hurt in their face.
"I'm sorry, Kev. I didn't realize. I thought things would be okay there while I was gone."
"I mean, last I heard, things are fine at the mansion... Just tell us next time that you're leaving? And try to stay in touch? You still have enemies out there, all of us do, and we need to look out for each other."
Logan cleared his throat and nodded, grabbing two beers from the fridge and handing one to Morph. "I got ya, bub. Speaking of enemies, what were you doing in that bar with those men?"
They accept the beer and lean against the wall, flipping up the edge of the blinds to look out the window into the night as they take a long sip. "I'm working on infiltrating their group."
"What do you know about them?"
They shrug, their face troubled. "They call themselves the Purifiers. Religious zealots, and they're backed by the Stryker corporation, which has connections in the greater government and fingers in the national military." They drop the blinds and begin to pace the floor. "Apparently, someone has been putting it about that mutants are evil incarnate. The X-Men want access to their internal databases to see what they're planning and who's helping them. I just haven't been able to get close to those yet."
"You've been at this long?"
"A few weeks. They watch all the new recruits like hawks. I haven't been able to get away during any of the warehouse meetups and still don't know where they're keeping the computers."
"What do they have in the warehouse?"
"Machinery, guns, pieces for robotics. It seems like they're setting up some base of operations there, but it doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't make sense about it?"
"I don't know where it's all going. The first week I showed up, the place was full of boxes and parts. whole walls of stacked machinery on pallets. The next week, it was gone. I've kept an eye on the trucks coming in and going out. Hank has been tracking the manifests on the trucking company's end for every truck that docks there. Nothing is leaving that warehouse. The whole floor looks pretty normal. The only way we can be sure their internal database servers are even there is from the amount of electricity they're consuming from the grid, but I can't find them. If anyone were to inspect the place, it wouldn't flag as out of the ordinary for a Stryker warehouse." Morph paused their pacing to look around. "You know, you need a giant beanbag in here. Do you just stand around anytime you're here, or do you sit on the floor?"
"I only come here to shower, sleep, and do laundry. There isn't much sitting around time; I do most of that at the office."
"Wow, look at you! You have an office?" Their tone was teasing, "So you really are doing the whole noir detective thing!"
Logan snorts and rolls his eyes. "Honestly, I don't spend much time there either; it's just to give a good impression when I meet with potential clients and a place to store files. I get enough cases to keep me busy most of the time."
"Is that what brought you to the bar tonight?"
"Yeah, I've been following that Adam Rickshaw guy. His wife thinks he's having an affair. I tracked him to the warehouse the other day and then to the bar tonight. Turns out, the guy isn't having an affair; he's just an asshole."
"You can say that again. So, what are you going to do now?"
"Whatdya mean?"
"Well, you've solved your case. Is that just it for you? wash your hands of the whole situation and move on to the next case?"
"Yeah, that's about what I was thinking of doing."
"Ah… I mean, that makes sense, I guess." Morph couldn't keep their shoulders from sagging in disappointment
"Though these Purifier guys seem like they want to start trouble that's going to drag everyone into this matter, and I'd be a sorry excuse for an X-Men if I didn't try to do something about it. Besides, after all the socialization you made me do with those knuckleheads tonight, making them think I was interested in their shtick, it would look a bit strange if they never saw me again, and it might look bad for you."
Morph broke into a wide grin. "That's what you get for staring at them, not my fault they noticed. I simply stopped them from starting a brawl with you. As much as they deserve getting their heads knocked in, it would have compromised the mission." Logan was staying! They were going to work together the way they used to!
"It wasn't them I was staring at."
"What?"
Logan cleared his throat and checked the time. 11:40, it was late. "Nothin, it's getting pretty late. You got someplace you've been staying?"
"Oh. No, I've been keeping an eye on the warehouse. I haven't been sleeping since I started the mission. You know, I didn't want to miss anything." They didn't want to sleep. couldn't afford to sleep on the job, not with the nightmares. "I won't keep you if you want me to leave so you can sleep."
"I'm not telling you to leave. Have you at least been eating on the job?"
"I don't want to answer that." Morph's cheeks flushed pink, and they set their empty beer bottle on the counter. "So, you're letting me stay?" Their gaze went to the bed in the corner.
"The bed is big enough for two, or if you'd be more comfortable, I'm fine sleeping on the floor." Logan walked to the door and shucked his boots off, now he knew they would be in for the night.
"I'm okay sharing. We do sleepovers at the mansion all the time!"
"Do you?"
"Well, I keep suggesting it, but Jubilee and Remy are the only ones who've participated. We got Scott once, but that's because he fell asleep during movie night and we didn't bother to wake him up." Morphs form shifted from their human visage to their natural pale gray form, now wearing a loose black sleeping shirt and soft blue pajama pants, they sat on the bed.
Logan chuckled, "I bet Slim was thrilled when he woke up next morning."
Morph laughed with him, "Not at all! Someone may have painted his nails yellow and blue while he was asleep. He made us run drills in the danger room until lunch."
"pretty brutal"
"Still worth it to see the look on his face! It took him a whole other day before he realized we got his toes too!"
Logan laughed harder as he stripped down and got ready for bed. Morph couldn't help but admire everything about his friend. The way he smiled and the gleam of elongated canines when they made him laugh, as well as the way the muscles in his back flexed as he moved around.
Not wanting to get caught staring, Morph busied themselves with deciding to sleep closest to the wall and burying themselves under the covers. The idea of sharing a bed with Logan had their heart in their throat; they weren't sure how they would manage to fall asleep.
When Logan pulled the covers back to join them a few minutes later, he found them fast asleep, facing the wall. He eased into the bed gently so as not to disturb them and lay in the darkness for a while just listening to the sound of them breathing. Remembering a time when he thought he'd never hear their breath again. They were safe now, and he fell asleep vowing that he'd make sure they stayed that way.