Warnings: unprotected p in v (thought Logan doesn't finish inside), angst.
****
Screaming. Not just screaming, a bellow of rage and pain. You leapt out of bed and headed down the hallway. Logan was sitting up in the middle of the bed, fists clenched, claws extended, blood running down his hands from where they had pierced his flesh. He was wide eyed and shaking.
‘Logan…’ you said softly.
He stared at you, unfocused at first then realised who you were.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, ‘I’m sorry I’m sorry..’
You went over and sat next to him, pausing a moment before putting your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. It was the second night this had happened. You felt him slump against you, his claws disappeared and you felt his hands on your arms, shaking. You smooth his hair back from his forehead.
‘You’re okay, you’re safe,’ you soothed.
‘I’m sorry..’
‘For what?’
‘Waking you, being here.’
It took you a while to realise you were actually rocking him.
‘Nothing to be sorry for,’ you smiled.
You both sat like that for a while. Logan seemed to calm and you moved away from him, sitting on the side of the bed.
‘What was the nightmare about?’ you asked.
He rubbed at his eyes.
‘Nothing distinct. Just pain, needles being forced into me. Everything tasted metallic,’ he was looking at his hands, the blood drying on them now, ‘something being put inside me.’
Logan had said this before, and you both assumed it was metal of some kind, given the claws he now possessed. It would also explain the heaviness of him.
You watched him, sitting on the side of the bed now, hands on his knees, eyes closed, breathing gently in and out. Calming himself. He looked at the small clock on the bedside table. 2am. He ran a hand over his face.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, weary this time, ‘I’ll leave tomorrow...today...’
‘Logan you don’t have to leave,’ you said.
This was a circular conversation that the two of you couldn’t seem to stop having. You heard him sigh then lay back down on the bed.
‘Should go and sleep out in the wood store, at least I won’t disturb you,’ he muttered.
‘Don’t think the racoons would like that,’ you smiled.
He let out a small huff of laughter.
‘You going to be okay?’ you asked, knowing the answer.
He just shrugged. You patted him on the leg and went back to your own room.
What was Logan going to do when you had to leave? That thought went around your head as you got back into bed. You only had a few more days here then it was back to the real world. He couldn’t come with you...could he? You weren’t sure how you’d explain arriving home with a man in tow, especially not one who had been so very traumatised so very recently. You had thought about extending your stay but that just prolonged the inevitable. Something was going to have to be done about Logan.
***
Late afternoon, you stood by the window watching Logan out in the yard, chopping wood. There was plenty in the wood store but you got the feeling that he was wanting to make himself useful. That and doing something gave him a focus that wasn’t his own thoughts for a short while. You pondered him while you watched. Under very different circumstances, he might have been the sort of guy you would have gone for, maybe met in a bar, taken home, had some fun with. You weren’t sure if he was the sort of guy that stuck around. You weren’t sure if Logan knew if he was or not. Despite talking, it was clear that whatever had happened to him had wiped out huge chunks of his memory. You wondered if they would ever come back, that if maybe the nightmares he had were those memories returning. At least the memory of what happened to him. You would like to have a least one night where you weren’t woken by him screaming.
You shook yourself. That was selfish. It wasn’t as if he could help it. You sighed and went to the door.
‘Logan,’ you called, ‘I was going to order a pizza or something, you hungry?’
Logan put the axe he was using into the chopping block with a thunk. He’d taken off the shirt he had been wearing and was just in the white tank top. His arms, you couldn’t help but notice, were shining with the sweat of his work, as was the patch of chest you could see. You swallowed and looked away. Logan walked over to you.
‘Yeah, sounds good,’ he said, ‘I wish I could give you some money for it.’
You waved him away.
‘It’s fine. I’d still be ordering it even if you weren’t here.’
‘Yeah but still...’
You put a hand on his arm. He felt warm, firm muscle under your fingers.
‘It’s fine,’ you repeated and quickly headed back inside.
***
When you answered the door to the delivery guy, you noticed the dark clouds gathering.
‘You’re lucky. You’re my last delivery, storm’s coming. Boss’s shutting up shop for the night,’ he said.
‘That bad?’ you asked.
The guy shrugged.
‘Could be. Reckons the power’s going to go out. Better to be prepared.’
You watched him drive off and brought the pizza inside. Logan was getting some plates out of the cupboard.
‘Guy said a storm’s brewing, should look for some candles just in case.’
Logan nodded.
‘Want me to look now?
‘No, let’s eat first.’
It was about half an hour before it started to rain, and it didn’t take long for the storm to really start to ramp up. You and Logan searched around and were able to find a few boxes of candles and some matches. You set them up around the lounge in whatever you could find, jars, on plates, and waited. You hoped that the power wouldn’t go out but the way that the wind and rain were battering the place you weren’t hopeful.
***
‘That’s all of them,’ Logan said, blowing out the match.
You looked around the lounge. You’d placed the candles on every surface you safely could. You had thought about suggesting that you both just go to bed, sleep the storm out, but when you checked the clock, it was still only 7pm and you didn’t feel in the slightest bit tired. You sighed and went to the kitchen, taking a couple of beers from the fridge.
‘Found this.’
You turned to see Logan walking across the room holding a box. He rattled at it at you.
‘Monopoly?’ you said.
‘Why not?’ he grinned, ‘keep us occupied for a while at least.’
You cleared a space on the coffee table and set up the game. As you sat playing, it occurred to you that it was the first time since he’d stumbled into your life, that Logan had appeared truly relaxed, laughing easily, being ridiculously competitive. It was, you had to concede, a lot of fun.
You were just handing over the last of your money when there was a huge clap of thunder followed swiftly by a flash of lightening.
‘Damn,’ you said, ‘I thought it was starting to get better.’
Logan went to the window.
‘Nope. Think this is in for the night.’
You sighed.
‘Great. Never going to get to sleep with all that racket going on.’
Logan turned back to you.
‘Is there anymore beer?’
‘I think so.’
He went to the kitchen and came back with two more bottles.
‘Another round?’ he asked, gesturing at the Monopoly board.
‘No,’ you said, ‘unless you found anything else?’
‘Just this.’
You both sat in silence for a while. Logan took a swig of beer.
‘So why did you choose to come out here for a vacation?’
You shrugged.
‘Not a beach girlie,’ you said, ‘thought we’d established that.’
‘Yeah, but coming alone. Didn’t any friends want to come with?’
You shook your head.
‘Nope. Didn’t want them to either.’
‘What happened?’
You were silent for a long time. Then you looked over at him. Logan was sat at the other end of the couch, settled back, long legs stretched out in front of him.
‘I fucked up,’ you said, ‘at work. Like, losing a million dollar contract fucked up.’
‘Damn,’ Logan said, ‘how?’
‘Trusted someone I shouldn’t.’
‘Let me guess,’ Logan began, ‘you ended up taking all the blame and they’re acting like they have no idea why you’d do something like that?’
You nodded.
‘Pretty much sums it up.’
‘So do you actually have a job to go back to?’
You pulled a face.
‘Yeah. Demoted, on probation. This...vacation was a little less voluntary than I would have liked.’
‘Shit. Sorry that happened to you.’
Both of you looked at the window as another flash of lightening lit up the sky.
‘Yeah well…maybe it’s the motivation I need to move on. Not that I’m sure I’ll get another job with this hanging over me.’
You flopped back against the cushions.
‘Sorry for bringing it up,’ Logan said.
You reached out a hand and patted his leg.
‘Don’t be.’
It took a while for either of you to notice that you hadn’t moved your hand back.
When Logan moved closer to you, you didn’t think much of it. Nor when he took your beer bottle and put it on the table. When he put his hand on your leg you let out a breath.
‘I’ll stop if you want me to,’ he said. His voice sounded different. Softer.
You looked at him. You could tell him to stop. But you didn’t want him too. You wanted to feel more of the prickle on your skin that you could feel under his hand. You said nothing but leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. You parted your lips to kiss him again and felt his tongue slipping past them. You felt his big hands on your waist, moving up your back, holding the back of your neck, pushing into your hair.
‘Logan...’ you sighed, as he began to plant kisses along your throat.
‘Yeah?’ he asked, his tongue flicking out to lick at your pulse. You groaned and threaded your hands through his hair.
You weren’t sure you could remember what you were going to say. Logan had moved you and you were now lying flat on the couch, him partly on top of you. You felt a hand on your thigh, another still in your hair. He was kissing you deeply now, and you found yourself arching your body up against him. Logan looked down at you, and you noticed his nose twitch, just slightly, then he grinned.
‘What’s so funny?’ you asked.
‘Nothing’s funny, sweetheart, just...’ he didn’t finish, just pushed his hand past the waist band of your sweatpants. You felt his hand stroking you over your underwear, then move and his fingers were on you, circling your clit, moving down and nudging at your hole. You groaned and pulled him tighter to you. As Logan’s hand moved on you, you started to undo his jeans. You knew he was big from the very first night you’d met but now he was hard and big. He groaned as you slipped your hand inside and started to stroke him. You’d never found any underwear for him, so there was nothing between him and the rough denim. Over the past few days you had found your eyes drifting to his crotch, you weren’t sure why. You’d felt bad about it. Now you had Logan’s cock in your hand. You felt him move and position himself between your legs. His fingers hooked in your sweatpants and underwear and he started to pull them down.
‘Are you sure you want this?’ he breathed against your mouth.
‘Yes,’ you sighed.
Your clothes were off and thrown onto the floor. Logan’s jeans were pushed down to his ankles. You felt him against you, then inside you. Slipping inside you quickly and easily, shocking you both. Logan held himself above you for a moment, both of you adjusting what had just happened. He looked down at you, his heart beating out of his chest.
‘Move,’ you said, your hands drifting down to his hips.
He grinned and started to do just that. You felt yourself moving too, to meet his thrusts. Logan kissed you again, grabbing at your thighs, his groans, yours, filling the air, the storm outside forgotten.
‘I…’ he began, ‘…gonna come…’
The thought floated through your mind that this was perhaps the first time he’d had sex in a long time. Before you could speak, reassure him that was okay, he started to slow down, thrust into you a little less frantically, pulling himself back from the brink, at least for a little while. You pulled your knees up, letting him sink a little deeper and you both groaned.
You felt a hand pushing between you and Logan. You felt his rough fingers on you, stroking your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. A clap of thunder outside coincided with you coming, a scream leaping from you that shocked you a little. You heard Logan groan and then saw him quickly move to pull out, taking hold of himself and finishing on your thigh. He collapsed on top of you, elbows digging into the couch to take his weight. You both lay there for so long you felt the stickiness of your leg start to dry. You were both still naked from the waist down, your legs still open, Logan still edged between them. It was not an elegant picture.
‘That was unexpected,’ you said after a long silence.
Logan moved to sit up, shifting back to the other end of the couch, pulling up his jeans and zipping them up. He looked nervous, embarrassed. He glanced over at you, still laying spreadeagled like you were, his come on your leg. He swallowed hard.
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘Why are you sorry?’
‘Shouldn’t have....’
You fished around on the floor for your clothes, pulling them on and sitting next to him.
‘Don’t you think I would have stopped you if I hadn’t wanted to do that?’
Logan sat back, closed his eyes and rubbed his head.
‘I don’t think I’m a good person,’ he said.
‘We just had sex, Logan, I’m not expecting you to marry me.’
The awkwardness that descended between you was momentarily forgotten as the tv sprung back into life. It made you jump a little. Logan went to the window and looked out.
‘Lights look like they are back on in town,’ he said.
‘Good.’
Logan turned back to the room, watching as you went about and blew out all the candles.
‘I’ll leave. Tomorrow,’ Logan said.
‘Haven’t we been through this?’ you groaned.
‘Yeah but things have changed,’ Logan muttered. You watched him as he stalked off to his room and sighed.
Later, sometime in the early hours, you heard him screaming again. You lay in bed and thought about just ignoring it. But how could you, when he sounded so scared? Moving along to Logan’s room you pushed the door open. He was writhing on the bed, his claws out, slashing at the air. There was no way you could get close to him like this. You walked in and got as close to the bed as you dared.
‘Logan!’ you called, watching for any sign that he had heard you.
A series of whimpers came from him and then he seemed to settle, sitting up in bed and focusing on you.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, breathless, the same as every other night this had happened.
‘You can’t help it,’ you said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, ‘is there anything that I can do for you?’
Logan was silent for a long time. Then he looked at you, his eyes brimming with tears.
The very brief flashback we get of Logan in X2 where he's remembering what happened to him at Alkali Lake really captures the visceral horror of what was done to him. As much as I love the campy tomfoolery of Origins, they way they handled this didn't show how horrific something like this would surely be. Especially when Logan is breaking free - those few seconds of him being absolutely horrified by what has been done to him, not knowing what to do with his hands, the blood...so good.
Anyway....this fic is a bit of a what happened after he escaped.
Warnings: none, mentions of blood, pain.
****
This was just what you needed. A few weeks away, a beautiful cabin in the woods, lots of walks, decompressing. So when you heard a crash downstairs in the middle of the night, your body flooded with every ounce of stress and anxiety you’d managed to get rid of in an instant. You sat up in bed, shaking and trying to keep your breathing steady. Failing. You didn’t want to switch on the light but you figured whoever it was would know that there was someone here anyway, so it made no difference. You reached for your phone, getting ready to call the police but when you looked at the screen – no service. Something you’d loved for the past five days but now…
Another crash. Then…a moan? A moan of pain. And was that crying? You knew you shouldn’t, every fibre of your being was telling you not to, but you pushed back the covers and shifted to the edge of the bed. Slipping your boots on, you walked as softly as you could to the door. Of course it creaked when you opened it. You might as well have let off an air horn to give the intruder every chance to locate you. You waited, expecting whoever it was to run upstairs but no one came. You opened the door fully and stepped out onto the landing. You stood and listened. You could hear a whimpering. Was it an animal, maybe? A bear or something that had broken in? Injured and disoriented with pain? You stepped towards the stairs and slowly made your way down them.
Halfway down the stairs you saw that had made the noise and it made you gasp out loud.
Slumped in the middle of the rug in the large open lounge was a man. Naked, legs and feet covered in dirt and grime. And blood. Blood over his torso, his arms and hands. He was breathing rapidly and was staring at his hands. Hands, out of which jutted knives. You blinked then looked again. He wasn’t just holding the knives, they were coming out from between his knuckles. The blood, you assumed, was from where the knives had pierced through the skin. It didn’t look like he really knew what to do with his fingers. They were splayed, and he didn’t seem to want to move them, lest he cut himself. His eyes were wide, scared.
You walked all the way down the stairs and stood looking at him.
‘Are you okay?’ you asked, realising it was the stupidest thing in the world you could have said.
The man’s head whipped around, his eyes focusing on you.
‘Help me…’ he whimpered then passed out.
***
The man finally came around, jerking awake, disorientated and confused. You couldn’t move him other than to put him into the recovery position, so you’d found a blanket and pillow and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. You’d jumped away when you noticed the blades in his hands retracting slowly back into his arms. You watched as the cuts between his knuckles healed and the bleeding stopped. As you tucked the blanket around him, you wondered what the hell had happened. He was obviously a mutant but this guy, those blades - that didn’t seem like it was an entirely natural part of any mutation he may have had or that you’d ever heard about. It didn’t seem like he was entirely used to them either.
He sat up, looking wildly around the room. You knelt on the floor, a little way from him and made sure to talk in a low, calm voice.
‘Hey, you’re okay. You’re inside and you’re safe,’ you said. He looked at you. He was handsome, even with his hair sweated slick to his head and face, a face bracketed by thick mutton chops. He wore a set of dog tags around his neck. You’d taken a look at them while he was out cold. Logan they said, and Wolverine, and a number. You assumed that Wolverine was a code name, the number being his army number. You told him your name.
‘Yours is Logan, right?’ you said, pointing at the tags.
He looked down at his chest, taking the tags up in shaking fingers, still covered in blood.
‘Yeah....’ he said, his voice rough, unsure.
‘Can you tell me what happened?’
He looked at you.
‘I...I don’t know.’
You moved a little closer.
‘That’s alright. How about we try and get you cleaned up? I can see if there are any clothes here that would fit you. This isn’t my house, I'm just staying here, but I can take a look. Then maybe we can call someone?’
At that his head whipped up and he looked terrified.
‘No!’
‘Okay, okay that’s fine,’ you soothed, ‘let’s just focus on cleaning you up first, alright?’
He nodded. You stood and went to help him up. He was heavy, unusually so. While he was tall and muscular, there was a denseness to him that felt alien, not a weight that came from his natural shape and size. As he stood, he wobbled slightly and you found yourself taking him around the waist. It was not lost on either of you that he was still very naked. Once he got his footing you started to move, only holding onto his arm.
‘There’s a bathroom downstairs, just over there.’
You headed towards a short hallway, and there for the bathroom. You sat him on the toilet seat while you ran some water into the tub. You didn’t think he would be able to stand up under a shower without help. You helped him to the bath and helped him to step into it. He sank down into the water, a small sigh escaping from him. You passed him a washcloth and some soap, putting a bottle of shampoo on the side of the bath.
‘Give me a shout if you need any help,’ you said. The man, Logan, just nodded.
You went back to the lounge. It was daylight now, nearing 6am. Your eyes felt gritty and you rubbed at them. You should probably go and get dressed yourself, then make something to eat. Then...what? What were you supposed to do with this strange naked mutant who had broken into your holiday cabin? First, you needed to find him some clothes. You hoped that there might be something in one of the other rooms. Indeed, a few minutes searching around garnered a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. You knocked then popped your head around the door of the bathroom and left them on the floor. Logan was laying back in the bath, clean now, hair washed and slicked back from his face, eyes closed, one hand rubbing at his temples. You shut the door and left him to it.
***
By the time he emerged, you’d dressed and were just pouring some coffee.
‘Thanks,’ he said as he padded to the kitchen, ‘for all this.’
You pushed a cup over to him and a glass of water and motioned for him to sit down.
‘Not a problem,’ you smiled.
Logan quirked a brow and took a sip of the coffee.
‘It’s a pretty big problem. Thank you for not calling the police.’
You sat down opposite him.
‘Not much service around here and besides, it was clear you needed help, not to be arrested.’
‘Even so. I’ll drink this and be on my way.’
You looked at him.
‘And where would that be?’ you asked.
His brow furrowed.
‘I don’t know.’
‘What do you know?’ you continued, ‘what happened to your hands? You were wielding some pretty heavy metalwork when I found you.’
Logan put his hands in his lap, looking down at them, seemingly ashamed.
‘Weren’t you scared?’ he said towards them.
‘Yes. But you seemed just as scared of them.’
He glanced up at you.
‘They didn’t used to be metal,’ he said simply.
It was clear that Logan wasn’t sure what had happened to him beyond that. He wasn’t sure of much. He just remembered blood and pain and running. He’d come across this house and forced his way in.
‘I didn’t know anyone was here,’ he said, ‘not sure I was really thinking clearly.’
You’d have been more concerned if the naked bloody man with knives in his hands had been thinking clearly.
‘Are you hungry?’
Logan nodded.
‘Starving.’
You’d not bought many groceries with you but had been planning to go into town today to get more. Even so, there was enough to put together some sandwiches. As you worked at the counter, you glanced back at him. He was examining his hands. You watched as he made a fist and the three blades shot out from his knuckles. He let out a grunt, you couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been. You watched as he ran a finger along the edge of one of them. The cut on his fingertip disappeared almost immediately.
‘Is that your mutation?’ you asked.
He looked at you.
‘Yeah.’
‘Useful.’
Logan retracted the claws with a sharp hiss.
‘Most blessings are actually a curse,’ he muttered.
You put a plate in front of him and he took a huge bite from the sandwich.
‘You said they didn’t used to be metal,’ you said, pointing at his hands, ‘what did they used to be?’
Logan swallowed and flexed his hand again.
‘Bone. Bone claws.’
Bone claws and accelerated healing. Neat.
Or…not. You watched Logan eating. Everyone assumes that having a superpower or something like that would be a brilliant thing but from where you were sitting, it looked like a burden.
‘Why does your tag say Wolverine?’
He touched where they lay under his t-shirt.
‘I was a soldier. Am a soldier. It’s what they called me.’
You pondered this. If he was military, did that mean he was AWOL? Were you going to be having military police showing up at your door?
‘Did they do this to you? The army?’
‘I think so. I might…I think I let them.’
‘Why would you do that?’ You asked.
He let out a short laugh.
‘Been trying to work that one out myself, sweetheart.’
Logan finished the sandwich and sat back in his chair.
‘You said you’re just staying here?’
‘Yeah. Just a couple of weeks' vacation. Been hiking and getting some good air in my lungs.’
He nodded a little.
‘Bit unusual for a gal like you?’
‘A gal like me?’ You asked quirking a brow.
He blushed a little and you laughed.
‘I just meant…wouldn’t you rather be baking on a beach somewhere?’
‘No,’ you shook your head, ‘I needed peace and quiet and a lack of other people. Present company accepted.’
‘Sorry to intrude.’
You looked at him.
‘You needed help,’ you said simply.
‘I’m grateful for that,’ he said after a while, ‘but I really shouldn’t stay.’
No, he probably shouldn’t but you could only repeat your previous question – where was he going to go?
You knew that you should have called the authorities the second you found him, and if not then, you should have done it by now. And yet you didn’t. You also knew that letting a strange man, a strange mutant, into this house was not wise, but looking at him now you couldn’t turn him out. He looked exhausted, haunted even. Something had happened to him, something clearly traumatic. What sort of asshole would you be if you threw him out now? Chances are he’d end up in custody somewhere, shipped off back to the army where they would do God knows what else to him.
‘My grandfather was a mutant,’ you said after a long silence. Logan looked up at you, ‘he could control electricity. Neat party trick,’ you smiled, ‘but he was ashamed of it. Never really talked to anyone about it, except me.’
‘Why you?’
‘I think he thought I was like him,’ you said sadly, ‘I’m not, but I used to wish I was. So, I’m not scared of you being a mutant. I know how much it took from my grandfather to be ‘acceptable’’ you made quotes in the air, ‘and I know how much it hurt him when people shunned him for something he couldn’t help. I’ve got another week or so here, should be time for us to figure something out, do you think?’
Logan looked, and felt, pathetically grateful. All he could remember was being out in the snow, naked, finding this place and now...you. Someone who wasn’t flinching from him, wasn’t scared and wasn’t trying to hurt him. He still felt cautious, he wasn’t entirely sure he could trust you, but he wasn’t sure he could trust anyone anymore.
‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘I appreciate that.’
You smiled. First point of order was to try and find him some more clothes, some shoes and then maybe try and get some sleep.
‘There’s another room,’ you said, directing Logan to the smaller bedroom, ‘make yourself comfortable and I’ll go and see if I can hunt out some more clothes.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, sitting down on the bed.
By the time you returned, he was laying down, fast sleep, snoring softly. He twitched slightly, like a dog did when it slept, making little noises, yelps and groans. You placed the clothes on top of the dresser and closed the door.
@itsmemuffy Do either of these look similar to what we're looking for? I'm trying to gauge what it looks like since we don't know the brand.
We're looking for a pink microwaveable aromatherapy tedday bear from like 2005-2006ish, so if anyone has any idea what brands it could be, please tell me!
A comment on my original ask suggested the Beddy Bear brand, and Thera Bears came up as a recommendation when I searched for it. It's not exact but the company has been operating since 1991 so it is very possible for me to have had this and the appearance changed over the many years they have been making the plush.
